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SCHOOL FOR? 
SCANDAL 



WALTER H .BAKER & CO. 

NSJ • HAMILTOM • PLACE 

BOSTON 




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I 




II. 



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91, W, ^mero's Paps 



THE AMAZONS -^^^^^ ^"^ Three Acts. Seven males, five females. 
Costumes, modern ; scenery, not difficult. Plays 
a full evening, 

THE CABINET MINISTER f-^f-^o^^/cts. Ten males, nine 

females. Costumes, modern society ; 
scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

DANDY DICR ^^^^^ ^^ Three Acts. Seven males, four females. 
Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interioi ■>. Plays 
two hours and a half. 

THE GAY LORD OUEX Comedy in rour Acts. Four males, ten 
" females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 

two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. 

HIS RODSF IN ORDER comedy in Four Acts. Nine males, four 

females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, 
three interiors. Plays a full evening, 

THE HOBBY HOPSF C^^'^^^^y ^^ Three Acts. Ten males, five 
females. Costumes, modern; scenery easy. 
Plays two hours and a half. 

I Die Drama in Five Acts. Seven males, seven females. Costumes, 
modern : scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 

LADY BOUNTIFUL ^^^^ ^" ^^^^ '^^^^' -^^S^* males, seven fe- 
males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, four in- 
teriors, not easy. Plays a full evening. 

T FTTY I*^^™^ i^ Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five fe- 
males. Costumes, modern ; scenery complicated. Plays a 
full evening 



Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 

a^altef i^* QBafeer & Company 

No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 



The School for Scandal 



A Comedy in Five Acts 



By ^ct^ 
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN 



Reprinted from the acting book used in the performances of 
the famous Boston Museum Company, by the courtesy of 
the late Annie M. Clarke, for many years its leading lady. 



BOSTON 

WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
1915 



The School for Scandal 



CHARACTERS 



\As originally produced at Drury Lane Theatre^ May (?, ijji) 



Sir Peter Teazle 

Sir Oliver Surface 

Joseph Surface 

Charles Surface 

Crabtree 

Sir Benj. Backbite 

Rowley . 

Moses . 

Trip 

Snake . 

Careless 

Sir Harry Bumper 

Lady Teazle 

Maria . 

Lady Sneerwell . 

Mrs. Candour 

Servants. 



Mr. King. 

Mr. Yates, 

. Mr. Palmer. 

Mr. Smith. 

. Mr. Parsons. 

Mr. Dodd. 

Mr. Aickin. 

. Mr. Baddeley. 

. Mr. Lamash. 

Mr. Packer. 

Mr. Farren. 

. Mr. Gawdry. 

Mrs. Abington. 

Miss P. Hopkins. 

. Miss Sherry. 

Miss Pope. 




Copyright, 191 5, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 

JAN -9 1915 

©CI.D 39349 



INTRODUCTION 

"The School for Scandal," the vintage champagne of the 
rich and varied cellar of the English drama, artificial but 
sparkling, was written by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, and was 
the fifth play from his pen. It is undoubtedly superficial in 
character and full of faults from a critical standpoint, yet its 
brilliant wit and its vast powers of entertainment remain un- 
dimmed and undiminished nearly a century and a half after its 
first performance. Its plot by itself is of the slightest interest, 
the progress of its dramatic story involves no searching or 
ingenious development of character and no single member of 
its cast, save perhaps Sir Peter Teazle, makes any legitimate 
claim upon one's sympathy or affections, but by dint of sheer 
skill in the management of its materials, fortunate contrivance 
of situation and perpetual play of wit, it survives, a triumph of 
unscrupulous dramaturgy. 

Sheridan was born in DubHn, October 30, 1751, and died in 
London, July 7, 1816, and the interval between these dates was 
filled by him with various and important achievement in litera- 
ture, politics and drama. "The School for Scandal," his 
greatest success in the latter field, was written in his twenty- 
sixth year and was first produced on May 8, 1777, at Drury 
Lane Theatre, London, with the really great cast printed on the 
opposite page. 

It is interesting to note that no collective performance and 
few individual impersonations have ever since equalled those of 
the company that originally created this play. Garrick, who 
contributed the prologue for the first performance, attended its 
rehearsals, and no one felt greater confidence than he in its 
success. Yet the first programme of the play did not bear its 
author's name. On the night before its first performance the 
necessary license was refused on the ground that the character 
of Moses was intended as a satire on a money-lender who re- 
cently had been a candidate for the office of City Chamberlain 
in opposition to Wilkes, but Sheridan easily persuaded Lord 
Hertford, the then Lord Chamberlain, to disregard what was 
probably a mere piece of theatrical politics. 



4 INTRODUCTION 

It is recorded that Sheridan was characteristically behind- 
hand with the manuscript of this comedy, the play having been 
announced before the parts were in the hands of the actors, and 
that the last five scenes had to be dashed off while the earlier 
scenes were already in rehearsal. <* Finished at last, thank 
God," wrote Sheridan on the last leaf of his copy, to vi^hich 
outburst of piety Hopkins, the prompter, added a cordial 
" Amen." It abundantly appears, however, from the discovery 
among his papers of several different drafts of the earlier acts, 
that he took a pains with this part of the composition com- 
mensurate with its merit, making many experiments and com- 
binations before he could satisfy his nice and critical taste. 
Moore, his biographer, who offers this testimony, says that he 
took ostentatious pains to convey the idea that he had left every- 
thing to the last, and it may well be that this anecdote illus- 
trates his vanity rather than his spontaneity. But Sheridan has 
elsewhere and repeatedly shown his brilliant ability to be equal 
to the occasion, and his habit oT procrastination in other matters 
is too well known to be deemed improbable in this. It is a 
fact that while the earlier parts of the play exist in several 
drafts and forms, there was but one hastily scrawled copy of the 
last five scenes. This may be the explanation of the recorded 
fact that the first night of ''The School for Scandal" was an 
unusually nervous business for all concerned. When the cur- 
tain had fallen and the play had gained an unequivocal suc- 
cess, it was thus "only natural," as he phrased it to Lord 
Byron, that Sheridan should have got very drunk and have 
been taken to the watch-house for making a row in the street. 

The original acting copy of this play survived until March 5, 
1856, when it shared the fate of Covent Garden Theatre, in the 
library of which it then reposed, and was burned with that 
house and its entire contents. There exists, however, in the 
possession of Sir George Chetwynd, the original autograph copy 
of the play that was sent to the licenser of the time of its 
production. 

Sheridan was accused by Watkins, in his scissors and paste 
biography of that author, of plagiarizing this piece in whole or 
in part from the work of an anonymous ''young lady" who 
was said to have sent in the manuscript and then opportunely 
to have died ; but this charge was successfully met by the 
ample testimony to its originality offered by Moore's "Life." 
To similar charges made during Sheridan's lifetime he never 
condescended to make other reply than that implied in the 



INTRODUCTION 5 

genial banter of Sir Fretful Plagiary, in his "The Critic" — 
which was answer enough. 

'*The School for Scandal," thus successfully launched, ran 
for twenty nights in its first season and for sixty-five in its 
second. For several years it continued to be acted regularly 
three nights a week, and is said to have drawn nearly twice as 
much money as any other play of its time. Its " author's 
night" produced ;^648. So profitable a piece of theatrical 
property was it that it was not printed at once, according to 
the usual custom of the time, but was kept in manuscript for 
its better protection, no authorized edition having been pub- 
lished prior to Sheridan's death in 1816. It was uttered 
piratically in Ireland in 1777, in an incorrect edition derived 
from a copy of the play sent by Sheridan to his eldest sister, 
Mrs. Le Fanu, who sold it to Ryder, the Dublin manager. A 
similar corrupt and unauthorized edition was published in 
London in 1783. The first American edition of this play ap- 
peared in New York, in 1786, over the imprint of Hugh Gaine. 
Publication appears to have been authorized by Henry, the 
manager, whose personal relations with the Sheridan family 
were close, and who had his copy from the author. 

The first performance of " The School for Scandal" on this 
side of the Atlantic was given on May 26, 1781, in the island 
of Jamaica by the American company who had retreated to 
this safe harbor during the troublous period 17 74-1 784. The 
first production of this play in the United States was given in 
Baltimore, Maryland, February 3, 1784, by Dennis Ryan's 
company. The Sir Peter was Mr. Heard ; the Lady Teazle, 
Mrs. Ryan. " The School for Scandal " was first seen in New 
York on December 12, 1785, under the management of Hallam 
and Henry. Philadelphia first saw the comedy July 30, 1787, 
under the extraordinary title of *' The Pernicious Vice of 
Scandal." In the early days of this city theatres were not ad- 
vertised as theatres nor plays as plays, opera houses and operas 
being the usual euphemism for these unspeakable things ; and 
thus it was that Sheridan's masterpiece came to be rechristened 
in harmony with these circumstances. On January 5, 1791, at 
the theatre in Southwark, in that city, George Washington saw, 
under recorded circumstaijces of very undemocratic pomp, 
Hallam play Sir Peter in this play. 

The first Boston performance of *' The School for Scandal '* 
was given November 12, 1792, by Mr. Harper's company, in 
the New Exhibition Room, for the benefit of Mrs. Morris, 



6 INTRODUCTION 

Kenna was the Sir Peter. On December 5th a performance of 
this play by the same company was stopped by legal process on 
now unknown grounds. Interference with the drama in this 
city, of wiiich divers recent instances will easily be recalled, is 
thus seen to have had an early and solid precedent. 

A list of the players who have variously adorned or been 
helped to success by the several parts of this play would con- 
stitute substantially a catalogue of all the prominent actors of 
the last century and a quarter in England and the United 
States. As an international compromise of this embarrassment 
of riches let it be recorded that Sir Charles Wyndham made 
his American debut as Charles Surface at Wallack's Theatre, 
New York, September 15, 1869. 

"The School for Scandal" was produced in German, in 
Vienna, by Schroeder, and it was also acted at The Hague, in 
Dutch. It has been translated into nearly every European 
language and also into Hindustani. The following French 
plays are indebted to it to a greater or less extent : '* Les Deux 
Neveux," acted in 1788 by the Young Comedians of the 
Comte de Beaujolais, '' Les Portraits de Famille," " Valsain et 
Florville," " Tartuffe des Moeurs," acted at the Frangais, 
"Les Deux Cousins," acted at the Vaudeville, and "L'Ecole 
du Scandale," acted at the Porte St. Martin. 

F. E. Chase. 
Bostoriy October 21 f igi4. 



COSTUMES 

Sir Peter. — Drab or salmon colored velvet coat and breeches 
trimmed with silver, white satin vest, white silk stockings, 
shoes, buckles, lace ruffles, etc. 

Sir Oliver. — Brown coat and waistcoat with embroidered 
buttonholes, black satin breeches, silk stockings, shoes, buck- 
les, three-cornered hat, brown camlet overcoat, embroidered. 
Second dress : Plain camlet drab overcoat. 

Joseph Surface. — Blue or black coat, white waistcoat, black 
pantaloons, black silk stockings, and pumps. 

Charles Surface. — Green coat, white waistcoat, light 
breeches, white silk stockings, dress shoes. 

Crabtree. — Purple velvet cloak lined with blue satin, satin 
waistcoat, embroidered satin breeches, white silk stockings. 

Backbite. — Fashionable colored dresscoat, white and crim- 
son waistcoats, flesh-colored tight pantaloons, silk stockings, 
pumps, and opera hat. 

Rowley. — Greatcoat, black breeches and waistcoat, gray 
camlet overcoat. 

Moses. — Black velvet coat, waistcoat, and breeches, trimmed 
with narrow gold lace, black stockings, and shoes with buckles. 

Careless. — Black coat and pantaloons, white waistcoat, 
black silk stockings, and pumps. 

Sir Harry. — Blue coat, white waistcoat, and black panta- 
loons. 

Trip. — Handsome dress livery. 

Snake. — Black coat, waistcoat and trousers, silk stockings, 
and pumps. 

Joseph's Servant. — Plain blue coat, yellow waistcoat and 
breeches, white stockings, and shoes. 

Lady Teazle. — Elegant white gauze dress, handsomely 
worked with silver flowers, white satin petticoat and body, and 
plume of feathers. 

Maria. — White satin dress with black trimming. 

Lady Sneerwell. — White dress, neatly trimmed. 

Mrs. Candour. — White satin petticoat and body, and 
flowered gauze dress over. 



The School for Scandal 



ACT I 

Scene I. — ^Lady Sneerwell's boudoir. Dressing-table and 
chair at R. At L. table and chair. Scene set to depth of 
stage with doors at r. and L. i e. A few chairs and sofa 
well up stage f which is comparatively clear in foreground. 

(Discovered^ Lady Sneerwell, r., at the dressing-table ; 
Snake drinking chocolate ^ l.) 

LIGHTS full tip* 

Lady S. The paragraphs, you say, Mr. Snake, were all in- 
serted ? 

Snake. They were, madam ; and as I copied them myself 
in a feigned hand, there can be no suspicion whence they 
came. 

Lady S. Did you circulate the report of Lady Brittle's in- 
trigue with Captain Boastall ? 

Snake. That's in as fine a train as your ladyship could wish. 
In the common course of things, I think it must reach Mrs. 
Clackitt's ears within four-and-twenty hours, and then, you 
know, the business is as good as done. 

Lady S. Why, truly, Mrs. Clackitt has a very pretty talent 
and a great deal of industry. 

Snake. True, madam, and has been tolerably successful in 
her day. To my knowledge she has been the cause of six 
matches being broken off, and three sons being disinherited ; 
of four forced elopements, nine separate maintenances, and two 
divorces. Nay, I have more than once traced her causing a 
t6te-a-tete in the Town and Country Magazine^ when the 
parties, perhaps, had never seen each other's face before in the 
course of their lives. 

Lady S. She certainly has talents, but her manner is gross. 

Snake. 'Tis very true. She generally designs well, has a 

9 



lO THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

free tongue and a bold invention; but her coloring is too dark, 
and her outlines often extravagant. She wants that delicacy of 
tint and mellowness of sneer which distinguishes your lady- 
ship's scandal. 

Lady S. Ah ! You are partial, Snake. 

Snake. Not in the least ; everybody allows that Lady 
Sneerwell can do more with a word or a look than many can 
with the most labored detail, even when they happen to have a 
little truth on their side to support it. 

Lady S. Yes, my dear Snake ; and I am no hypocrite to 
deny the satisfaction I reap from the success of my efforts. 
{They rise.) Wounded myself in the early part of my life by 
the envenomed tongue of slander, I confess I have since known 
no pleasure equal to the reducing others to the level of my own 
reputation. 

Snake. Nothing can be more natural. But, Lady Sneer- 
well, there is one affair in which you have lately employed me 
wherein, I confess, I am at a loss to guess your motives. 

Lady S. I conceive you mean with respect to my neigh- 
bor, Sir Peter Teazle, and his family ? 

Snake. I do. Here are two young men to whom Sir 
Peter has acted as a kind of guardian since their father's death; 
the eldest possessing the most amiable character, and univer- 
sally well spoken of— the youngest the most dissipated and ex- 
travagant young fellow in the kingdom, without friends or 
character ; the former an avowed admirer of your ladyship, 
and apparently your favorite ; the latter attached to Maria, Sir 
Peter's ward, and confessedly beloved by her. Now, on the 
face of these circumstances, it is utterly unaccountable to me 
why you, the widow of a city knight, with a good jointure, 
should not close with the passion of a man of such character 
and expectations as Mr. Surface ; and more so, why you 
should be so uncommonly earnest to destroy the mutual at- 
tachment subsisting between his brother Charles and Maria. 

Lady S. Then at once, to unravel this mystery, I must in- 
form you that love has no share whatever in the intercourse be- 
tween Mr. Surface and me. 

Snake. No? 

Lady S. His real attachment is to Maria, or her fortune ; 
but finding in his brother a favored rival, he has been obliged 
to mask his pretensions and profit by my assistance. 

REAX)Y knock L. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL II 

Snake. Yet I am still more puzzled why you should inter- 
est yourself in his success. 

Lady S. Heavens ! how dull you are I Cannot you sur- 
mise the weakness which I hitherto, through shame, have con- 
cealed even from you ? Must I confess that it is Charles, that 
libertine, that extravagant, that bankrupt in fortune and repu- 
tation, for whom I am thus anxious and malicious, and to gain 
whom I would sacrifice everything ? 

Snake. Now, indeed, your conduct seems consistent ; but 
how came you and Mr. Surface so confidential ? 

Lady S. For our mutual interest. I have found him out a 
long time since. I know him to be artful, selfish, and mali- 
cious — in short, a sentimental knave ; while with Sir Peter, 
and indeed with all his acquaintance, he passes for a youthful 
miracle of prudence, good sense and benevolence. 

Snake. Yes ; and Sir Peter vows he has not his equal in 
England- — and above all, he praises him as a man of sentiment. 

KNOCK at L. 

Lady S. True — and with the assistance of his sentiment 
and hypocrisy, he has brought him entirely into his interest 
with regard to Maria ; while poor Charles has no friend in the 
house, though, I fear, he has a powerful one in Maria's heart, 
against whom we must direct our schemes. 

Enter Servant, l. i e. 

Serv. Mr. Surface. 

Lady S. {crossing to c). Show him up. (Exit Serv., 
L. IE.) He generally calls about this time. I don't wonder 
at people giving him to me for a lover. (Snake crosses to R.) 

Enter Joseph Surface, l. i e. 

Joseph (l.). My dear Lady Sneerwell, how do you do to- 
day ? (^Crosses to Snake «/ r.) Mr. Snake, your most obe- 
dient. 

Lady S. (c). Snake has just been rallying me on our mu- 
tual attachment ; but I have informed him of our real views. 
You know how useful he has been to us, and, believe me, the 
confidence is not ill-placed. 

Joseph (r. c). Madam, it is impossible for me to suspect a 
man of Mr. Snake's sensibility and discernment. 

(Snake goes up r.) 

Lady S. Well, well, no compliments now ; but tell me 



12 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

when you saw your mistress, Maria — or, what is more material 
to me, your brother. {Goes to l.) 

Joseph. I have not seen either since I left you ; but I can 
inform you that they never meet. Some of your stories have 
taken a good effect on Maria. 

Lady S. Ah ! my dear Snake ! the merit of this belongs to 
you ; but do your brother's distresses increase ? 

READY knock L- 

Joseph. Every hour. I am told he has had another execu- 
tion in the house yesterday. In short, his dissipation and ex- 
travagance exceed everything I ever heard of. 

Lady S. Poor Charles ! 

Joseph. True, madam ; notwithstanding his vices one can- 
not help feeling for him. Poor Charles ! I'm sure I wish it 
were in my power to be of any essential service to him ; for the 
man who does not feel for thl^ distresses of a friend, even 
though merited by his own misconduct, deserves 

Lady S. O Lud ! you are going to be moral, and forget 
that you are among friends. 

Joseph. Egad, that's true ! I'll keep that sentiment till I 
see Sir Peter. However, it is certainly a charity to rescue 
Maria from such a libertine, who, if he is to be reclaimed, can 
only be so by one of your ladyship's superior accomplishments 
and understanding. 

KNOCX at L. 

Snake {coming down r.). I believe. Lady Sneerwell, here's 
company coming. I'll go and copy the letter I mentioned to 
you. Mr. Surface, your most obedient. 

Joseph {shaking hands with Snake). Sir, your very de- 
voted. (Exit Snake, r. i e.) Lady Sneerwell, I am very 
sorry you have put any further confidence in that fellow. 

Lady S. Why so ? 

Joseph (r.). I have lately detected him in frequent confer- 
ence with old Rowley, who was formerly my father's steward, 
and has never, you know, been a friend of mine. 

Lady S. And do you think he would betray us ? 

Joseph. Nothing more likely. Take my word for it, faith- 
ful even to his own villainy. Ah ! Maria ! 

Enter Maria, l. i e. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 13 

Lady S. (c). Maria, my dear, how do you do? — What's 
the matter ? 

Maria (l.). Oh ! there is that disagreeable lover of mine, 
Sir Benjamin Backbite, has just called at my guardian's with 
his odious uncle, Crabtree ; so I slipped out and ran hither to 
avoid them. 

Lady S. Is that all ? 

Joseph (r.). If my brother Charles had been of the 
party, madam, perhaps you would not have been so much 
alarmed. 

Lady S. Nay, now you are severe; for I dare swear the 
truth of the matter is, Maria heard you were here. But, my 
dear, what has Sir Benjamin done that you should avoid him 
so? 

Maria. Oh, he has done nothing — but 'tis for what he 
has said ; his conversation is a perpetual libel on all his 
acquaintance. 

Joseph. Ay, and the worst of it is, there is no advantage 
in not knowing him — for he'll abuse a stranger just as soon as 
his best friend ; and his Uncle Crabtree's as bad. 

Lady S. Nay, but we should make allowance. Sir Benja- 
min is a wit and a poet. 

Maria. For my part, I own, madam, wit loses its respect 
with me when I see it in company with malice. What do you 
think, Mr. Surface? (^Crosses to c. Lady S. goes to l.) 

Joseph. Certainly, madam; to smile at the jest which 
plants a thorn in another's breast is to become a principal in 
the mischief. 

Lady S. (l.). Pshaw ! — there's no possibility of being 
witty without a little ill-nature; the malice of a good thing 
is the barb that makes it stick. What's your real opinion, 
Mr. Surface? 

Joseph (r.). To be sure, madam, that conversation where 
the spirit of raillery is suppressed will ever appear tedious 
and insipid. 

Maria (c). Well, I'll not debate how far scandal may be 
allowable in a woman ; but in a man, I am sure, it is always 
contemptible. We have pride, envy, rivalship, and a thousand 
little motives to depreciate each other, but the male slanderer 
must have the cowardice of a woman before he can traduce 
one. {Goes up c.') 

Enter Serv., l. i e. 



14 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Serv. Madam, Mrs. Candour is below, and if your lady- 
ship's at leisure, will leave her carriage. 

Lady S. Beg her to walk in. (Exit Serv., l. i e.) 
Now, Maria, however, here is a character to your taste; for 
though Mrs. Candour is a little talkative, everybody allows 
her to be the best natured and best sort of woman. 

Maria. Yes, — with a very gross affectation of good-nature 
and benevolence she does more mischief than the direct malice 
of old Crabtree. 

Joseph. I'faith that's true. Lady Sneerwell; whenever I 
hear the current running against the characters of my friends, 
I never think them in such danger as when Candour under- 
takes their defense. 

Lady S. Hush, here she is ! 

Enter Mrs. Candour, l. i e. 

Mrs. C. (l. c). My dear -Lady Sneerwell, how have you 
been this century ? Mr. Surface, what news do you hear ? — 
though indeed it is no matter, for I think one hears nothing 
else but scandal. 

Joseph (r.). Just so, indeed, ma'am. 

Mrs. C. (crossing to Maria). Oh, Maria ! child. (Ma- 
ria and Mrs. C. come down r. c. Joseph moves to c. and 
Lady S. l. c.) What! is the whole affair off between you 
and Charles? His extravagance, I presume — the town talks 
of nothing else. 

Maria (r.). I am very sorry, ma'am, the town has so little 
to do. 

Mrs. C. (r. c). True, true, child; but there's no stopping 
people's tongues. I own I was hurt to hear it, as I indeed was 
to learn, from the same quarter, that your guardian. Sir Peter, 
and Lady Teazle have not agreed lately as well as could be 
wished. 

Maria. *Tis strangely impertinent for people to busy them- 
selves so. 

Mrs. C. Very true, child, but what's to be done ? People 
will talk — there's no preventing it. Why, it was but yesterday 
I was told that Miss Gadabout had eloped with Sir Filigree 
Flirt. But, Lord ! there's no minding what one hears ; though, 
to be sure, I had this from very good authority. 

Maria. Such reports are highly scandalous. 

Mrs. C. So they are, child — shameful, shameful ! But the 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 1 5 

world is so censorious, no character escapes. Lord, now, who 
would have suspected your friend, Miss Prim, of an indiscre- 
tion ? Yet such is the ill-nature of people that they say her 
uncle stopped her last week just as she was stepping into the 
York Mail with the dancing-master. 

Maria. I'll answer for it there are no grounds for that 
report. 

Mrs. C. Ah, no foundation in the world ; I dare swear no 
more, probably, than for the story circulated last month of 
Mrs. Festino's affair with Colonel Cassino — though, to be sure, 
that affair was never rightly cleared up. 

Joseph (c). The license of invention some people take is 
monstrous indeed. 

Maria. 'Tis so ; but, in my opinion, those who report such 
things are equally culpable. [Goes up r.) 

Mrs. C. To be sure they are ; tale-bearers are as bad as 
the tale-makers — 'tis an old observation, and a very true one. 
But what's to be done ? As I said before, how will you prevent 
people from talking? To-day, Mrs. Clackitt assured me Mr. 
and Mrs. Honeymoon were at last become mere man and wife, 
like the rest of their acquaintance. But, Lord, do you think 
I would report these things? No, no ! tale-bearers, as I said 
before, are just as bad as the tale- makers. 

(Lady S. goes up l. She meets Maria up stage where they 

converse.) 

Joseph. Ah, Mrs. Candour ! if everybody had your for- 
bearance and good-nature ! 

Mrs. C. I confess, Mr. Surface, I cannot bear to hear peo- 
ple attacked behind their backs ; and when ugly circumstances 
come out against our acquaintance, I own I always love to think 
the best. By the by, I hope 'tis not true that your brother is 
absolutely ruined ? 

Joseph {crossing to r. c). I am afraid his circumstances 
are very bad indeed, ma'am. 

Mrs. C. {crossing to L. c). Ah ! I heard so — but you 
must tell him to keep up his spirits ; everybody almost is in 
the same way — so if Charles is undone, he'll find half his ac- 
quaintance ruined too, and that, you know, is a consolation. 

Joseph. Doubtless, ma'am — a very great one. 

Enter Serv., l. i e. 



1 6 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Serv. Mr. Crabtree and Sir Benjamin Backbite. 

Exit Serv., l. i e. 

Lady S. {up stage , l. c). So, Maria, you see your lover 
pursues you ; positively you sha'n't escape. 

{Comes down l. c. Maria comes down r. to Joseph who 
moves to extreme R.) 

Enter Crabtree, ist, and Sir Benjamin Backbite, 2d, 

L. I e. 

Crab, (df/ L. ). Lady Sneerwell, I kiss your hand. {Crosses 
to Mrs. C. at l. c. She moves to r. c.) Mrs. Candour, I don't 
believe you are acquainted with my nephew. Sir Benjamin 
Backbite ? Egad ! ma'am, he has a pretty wit, and is a pretty 
poet, too; isn't he. Lady Sneerwell? 

Sir B. {at extreme L.). O fie, uncle ! 

Crab, {left of q,.). Nay, egad, it's true; I back him at a 
rebus or a charade against the best rhymer in the kingdom. 
Has your ladyship heard the epigram he wrote last week on 
Lady Frizzle's feather catching fire? Do, Benjamin, repeat 
it, or the charade you made last night extempore at Mrs. 
Drowzie's conversazione. Come, now ; — your first is the name 
of a fish, your second a great naval commander, and 

Mrs. C. Crab. 
Maria. Lady S. 

Joseph. Sir B. 

R. L. 

Sir B. Uncle, now, — pr'thee 

Crab. Tfaith, ma'am, 'twould surprise you to hear how 
ready he is at these things. 

Lady S. 1 wonder, Sir Benjamin, you never publish any- 
thing. 

Sir B. To say truth, ma'am, 'tis very vulgar to print ; and 
as my little productions are mostly satires and lampoons on 
particular people, I find they circulate more by giving copies 
in confidence to the friends of the parties. ( Crosses to Maria 
«/R. c. Crab., Lady S. and Mrs. C. move to l.) However, 
I have some love elegies which, when favored with this lady's 
smiles, I mean to give the public. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 



SirB. 



Mrs. C. 



Maria. 



Crab. 



Joseph. 



Lady S. 



R. 



Crab. 'Fore heaven, ma'am, they'll immortalize you ! 
You will be handed down to posterity, like Petrarch's Laura, 
or Waller's Sacharissa. 

Sir B. Yes, madam, I think you will like them, when you 
shall see them on a beautiful quarto page, where a neat rivulet 
of text shall meander through a meadow of margin. 'Fore 
Gad they will be the most elegant things of their kind ! 

Crab. But, ladies, that's true — have you heard the news ? 

(Maria and Joseph go up r. Sir B. crosses to r. Mrs. C. 
R. c, Crab. l. c, Lady S. l.) 

Mrs. C. (r. of c). What, sir; do you mean the report 
of 

Crab. No, ma'am, that's not it — Miss Nicely is going to be 
married to her own footman. 

Mrs. C. Impossible ! 

Crab. Ask Sir Benjamin. 

Sir B. 'Tis very true, ma'am ; everything is fixed, and the 
wedding liveries bespoke. 

Crab. Yes — and they do say there were very pressing 
reasons for it. 

Lady S. Why, I have heard something of this before. 

Mrs. C. It can't be — and I wonder any one should be- 
lieve such a story of so prudent a lady as Miss Nicely. 

Sir B. (r.). O lud ! ma'am, that's the very reason 'twas be- 
lieved at once. She has always been so cautious and so 
reserved that everybody was sure there was some reason for it at 
bottom. 

Mrs. C. Why, to be sure, a tale of scandal is as fatal to the 
credit of a prudent lady of her stamp as a fever is generally to 
those of the strongest constitutions. But there is a sort of 
puny, sickly reputation that is always ailing, yet will outlive 
the robuster characters of a hundred prudes. 

Sir B. True, madam ; there are valetudinarians in reputa- 
tion as well as constitution, who, being conscious of the weak 
part, avoid the least breath of air and supply their want of 
stamina by care and circumspection. 

Mrs. C. Well, but this may be all a mistake. You know, 



1 8 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Sir Benjamin, very trifling circumstances often give rise to the 
most injurious tales. 

Crab. That they do, I'll be sworn, ma'am. Did you ever 
hear how Miss Piper came to lose her lover and her character 
last summer at Tunbridge ? Sir Benjamin, you remember it ? 

Sir B. Oh, to be sure ; the most whimsical circumstance. 

Lady S. How was it, pray ? 

Crab. Why, one evening, at Mrs. Ponto's assembly, the con- 
versation happened to turn on the breeding of Nova Scotia sheep 
in this country. Says a young lady in company, I have known 
instances of it — for Miss Letitia Piper, a first cousin of mine, 
had a Nova Scotia sheep that produced her twins. 'What ! 
cries the lady dowager Dundizzy (who you know is as deaf as 
a post), has Miss Piper had twins ? This mistake, as you may 
imagine, threw the whole company into a fit of laughter. 
However, 'twas the next day everywhere reported, and in a 
few days believed by the whole town, and in less than a week 
there were some people who could name the father, and the 
farmhouse where the babies were put out to nurse. 

Lady S. Strange, indeed ! 

(Lady S. and Mrs. C. go up stage. Joseph comes down r.) 

Crab. Matter of fact, I assure you. (Crosses r. c. to 
Joseph as Sir B. crosses to l. c.) O lud ! Mr. Surface, 
pray is it true that your uncle. Sir Oliver, is coming home ? 

Joseph (r.). Not that I know of, indeed, sir. 

Crab. (r. c. ). He has been in the East Indies a long time. 
You can scarcely remember him, I believe. Sad comfort, 
whenever he returns, to hear how your brother has gone on. 

Joseph. Charles has been imprudent, sir, to be sure ; but I 
hope no busy people have already prejudiced Sir Oliver against 
him. He may reform. 

Sir B. (crossing to r. c. to Joseph. Crab, crosses to 
L. c). To be sure he may ; for my part I never believed him 
to be so utterly void of principle as people say ; and though he 
has lost all his Christian friends, I am told nobody is better 
spoken of by the Jews. 

(^Crosses back l. c, ««^ Crab, crosses to r. C.) 

Crab. That's true, egad, nephew. If the old Jewry was a 
ward, I believe Charles would be an alderman — no man more 
popular there, 'fore Gad ! I hear he pays as many securities 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL I9 

as the Irish Tontine ; and that whenever he is sick they have 
prayers for the recovery of his health in all the synagogues. 

Sir B. Yet no man lives in greater splendor. They tell me 
when he entertains his friends he will sit down to dinner with a 
dozen of his own securities ; have a score of tradesmen waiting 
in the antechamber and an officer behind every guest's chair. 

Joseph. This may be entertainment to you, gentlemen, but 
you pay very little regard to the feelings of a brother. 

(Sir B. and Crab, go up stage c.) 

Maria {up stage r. c. Aside). Their malice is intolerable. 
{Crosses l.) Lady Sneer well, I must wish you a good morn- 
ing j I'm not very well. 

Exit, L. I E. 

Mrs. C. {up stage l. c). O dear ! she changes color 
very much. 

Lady S. {up stage l.). Do, Mrs. Candour, follow her ; she 
may want your assistance. 

Mrs. C. That I will, with all my soul, ma'am. Poor dear 
girl, who knows what her situation may be ! 

Exit, L. I E. 

Lady S. 'Twas nothing but that she could not bear to hear 
Charles reflected on, notwithstanding their difference. 

Sir B. {up stage c). The young lady's penchant is ob- 
vious. 

Crab, {up stage r. c). But, Benjamin, you must not give 
up the pursuit for that. Follow her, and put her in good 
humor. Repeat her some of your own verses. Come, I'll as- 
sist you. 

Sir B. {crossing doivn stage to Joseph, at/r.). Mr. Surface, 
I did not mean to hurt you ; but depend on't your brother is 
utterly undone. {Crosses l.) 

Crab, {crossing down stage to Joseph, at r.) O lud, aye ! 
undone as ever man was. Can't raise a guinea ! {Crosses Y..") 

Sir B. {crossing r., to Joseph). And everything sold, I'm 
told, that was movable. {Crosses L.) 

Crab, {crossing c). I have seen one that was at his house. 
Not a thing left but some empty bottles that were overlooked, and 
the family pictures, which I believe are framed in the wainscot. 

{Crosses L.) 



20 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

READY change* 

Sir B. (crossing c). And I'm very sorry, also, to hear some 
bad stories against him. ( Gohig l. ) 

Crab. Oh ! he has done many mean things, that's certain. 
Sir B. But, however, as he's your brother 

(Going i..^ 

Crab. We'll tell you all another opportunity. 

Exit Crab, and Sir B., l. i e. ^os,^vvl follows to c. 

Lady S. {coming down r. c). Ha ! ha ! 'tis very hard for 
them to leave a subject that they have not quite run down. 

Joseph. And I believe the abuse was no more acceptable to 
your ladyship than to Maria. 

Lady S. I doubt her affections are further engaged than we 
imagine. But the family are to be here this evening, so you 
may as well dine where you are, and we shall have an oppor- 
tunity of observing further ; in the meantime I'll go and plot 
mischief and you shall study • 

Joseph. Sentiment. 



Exeunt, r. i e. 



CHANGE set. 



Scene II. — Room at Sir Peter Teazle's. Frotit set in sec- 
ond groove. Painted drop. 

LIGHTS full up. 
Enter Sir P., r. i e. 

Sir p. (c). When an old bachelor marries a young wife, 
what is he to expect ? 'Tis now six months since Lady Teazle 
made me the happiest of men, and I have been the most miser- 
able dog ever since ! We tift a little going to church, and 
came to a quarrel before the bells had done ringing. I was 
more than once nearly choked with gall during the honeymoon, 
and had lost all comfort in life before my friends had done 
wishing me joy. Yet I chose with caution — a girl bred wholly 
in the country, who never knew luxury beyond one silk gown, 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 21 

nor dissipation above the annual gala of a race ball. Yet now 
she plays her part in all the extravagant fopperies of the fash- 
ion and the town with as ready a grace as if she had never 
seen a bush or a grass-plot out of Grosvenor Square ! I am 
sneered at by all my acquaintance, and paragraphed in the 
newspapers. She dissipates my fortune, and contradicts all 
my humors ; yet, the worst of it is, I doubt I love her, or I 
should never bear all this. However, I'll never be weak enough 
to own it. 

Enter Rowley, l. i e. 

Row. Oh ! Sir Peter, your servant ; how is it with you, sir ? 

Sir p. (r.). Very bad, Master Rowley, very bad. I meet 
with nothing but crosses and vexations. 

Row. (l.). What can have happened since yesterday? 

Sir p. a good question to a married man ! 

Row. Nay, I'm sure, Sir Peter, your lady cannot be the 
cause of your uneasiness. 

Sir p. Why, has anybody told you she was dead ? 

Row. Come, come. Sir Peter, you love her, notwithstand- 
ing your tempers don't exactly agree. 

Sir p. But the fault is entirely hers, Master Rowley. I 
am, myself, the sweetest tempered man aUve, and hate a teas- 
ing temper : and so I tell her a hundred times a day. 

Row. Indeed ! 

Sir p. Ay ! and what is very extraordinary, in all our dis- 
putes she is always in the wrong ! But Lady Sneerwell, and 
the set she meets at her house, encourage the perverseness of 
her disposition. Then, to complete my vexations, Maria, my 
ward, whom I ought to have the power of a father over, is de- 
termined to turn rebel, too, and absolutely refuses the man 
whom I have long resolved on for her husband ; meaning, I 
suppose, to bestow herself on his profligate brother. 

Row. You know, sir, I have always taken the liberty to 
difl"er with you on the subject of these two young gentlemen. 
I only wish you may not be deceived in your opinion of the 
elder. For Charles, my life on't, he will retrieve his errors 
yet. Their worthy father, once my honored master, was, at 
his years, nearly as wild a spark ; yet, when he died, he did 
not leave a more benevolent heart to lament his loss. 

Sir p. You are wrong, Master Rowley. On their father's 
death, you know, I acted as a kind of guardian to them both, 
till their Uncle Sir Oliver's Eastern liberality gave them an 



22 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

early independence; of course, no person could have more 
opportunities of judging of their hearts, and I was never mis- 
taken in my life. Joseph is indeed a model for the young men 
of the age ; he is a man of sentiment, and acts up to the senti- 
ments he professes. But for the other, take my word for't, if 
he had any grain of virtue by descent, he has dissipated it with 
the rest of his inheritance. Ah ! my old friend, Sir Oliver, 
will be deeply mortified when he finds how part of his bounty 
has been misapplied. 

Row. I am sorry to find you so violent against the young 
man, because this may be the most critical period of his for- 
tune. I came hither with news that will surprise you. 

Sir p. What ! Let me hear. 

Row. Sir Oliver has arrived, and is in town at this moment. 

Sir p. How you astonish me ! I thought you did not ex- 
pect him this month. 

Row. I did not; but his passage has been remarkably 
quick. 

Sir p. Egad, I shall rejoice to see my old friend. *Tis six- 
teen years since we met. We have had many a day together; but 
does he still enjoin us not to inform his nephews of his arrival ? 

WARN cuftaim 

Row. Most strictly. He means, before it is known, to make 
some trial of their dispositions. 

Sir p. Ah ! there needs no art to discover their merits — 
however, he shall have his way : but, pray, does he know I am 
married ? 

Row. Yes, and will soon wish you joy. 

Sir p. What, as we drink health to a friend in a consump- 
tion ? Ah ! OUver will laugh at me. We used to rail at 
matrimony together: but he has been steady to his text. 
Would to heaven I had to mine ! Well, he must be at my 
house, though ! — I'll instantly give orders for his reception. 
But, Master Rowley, don't drop a word that Lady Teazle and 
I ever disagree. 

Row. By no means. 

Sir p. For I should never be able to stand Noll's jokes ; so 
I'd have him think. Lord forgive me ! that we are a very 
happy couple. 

Row. I understand you ; but then you must be very care- 
ful not to differ while he is in the house with you. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL ^3 

Sir p. Egad, and so we must — and that's impossible. Ah ! 
Master Rowley, when an old bachelor marries a young wife, 
he deserves — no — the crime carries its punishment along with it. 

RING quick curtain* 
Exeunt Row., l., Sir P., r. 

CURTAIN 



ACT II 

Scene 1. — Sir P.'s house. Same set as Act I, Scene II. 
Enter, at l. i e., Lady 'Y'e.hZLY.y followed by Sir P. 

LIGHTS full up. 

Sir p. (l.). Lady Teazle, Lady Teazle, I'll not bear it ! 

Lady T. (r.). Sir Peter, Sir Peter, you may bear it or 
not, as you please ; but I ought to have my own way in every- 
thing ; and what's more, I will, too. What though I was 
educated in the country, I know very well that women of 
fashion in London are accountable to nobody after they are 
married. 

Sir p. Very well, ma'am, very well ; so a husband is to 
have no influence, no authority. 

Lady T. Authority ! No, to be sure. If you wanted au- 
thority over me you should have adopted me and not married 
me ; I am sure you were old enough. 

Sir p. Old enough ! — ay — there it is. Well, well. Lady 
Teazle, though my life may be made unhappy by your temper, 
I'll not be ruined by your extravagance. 

Lady T. My extravagance ! I'm sure I'm not more ex- 
travagant than a woman of fashion ought to be. 

Sir p. No, no, madam, you shall throw away no more 
sums on such unmeaning luxury. 'Slife ! to spend as much to 
furnish your dressing-room with flowers in winter as would 
suflice to turn the Pantheon into a greenhouse, and give a fete 
champetre at Christmas. 

Lady T. Lord, Sir Peter, am I to blame because flowers 



24 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

are dear in cold weather? You should find fault with the 
climate, and not with me. For my part, I'm sure I wish it 
was spring all the year round, and that roses and lilies grew 
under our feet ! [Crosses to l.) 

Sir p. {crossing to r.). Oons ! madam — if you had been 
born to this, I shouldn't wonder at your talking thus j but you 
forget what your situation was when I married you. 

Lady T. No, no, I don't; 'twas a very disagreeable one, 
or I should never have married you. 

Sir p. Yes, yes, madam, you were then in somewhat a 
humbler style, the daughter of a plain country squire. Recol- 
lect, Lady Teazle, when I saw you first, sitting at your tam- 
bour, in a pretty figured linen gown, with a bunch of keys at 
your side; your hair combed smooth over a roll and your 
apartment hung round with fruits in worsted of your own 
working. 

Lady T. O yes, I remember it very well, and a curious life 
I led. My daily occupation *to inspect the dairy, superintend 
the poultry, make extracts from the family receipt-book, and 
comb my Aunt Deborah's lap-dog. 

Sir p. Yes, yes, madam, 'twas so indeed. 

Lady T. And then, you know, my evening amusements! 
To draw patterns for ruffles, which I had not materials to make 
up ; to play Pope Joan with the curate ; to read a novel to my 
aunt, or to be stuck down to an old spinet to strum my father 
to sleep after a fox- chase. {Crosses L.) 

Sir p. {crossing r.). I am glad you have so good a mem- 
ory. Yes, madam, these were the recreations I took you from ; 
but now you must have your coach — vis-d-vis — and three pow- 
dered footmen before your chair; and, in the summer, a pair 
of white cobs to draw you to Kensington gardens. No recol- 
lection, I suppose, when you were content to ride double, 
behind the butler, on a dock'd coach-horse. 

Lady T. No — I swear I never did that : I deny the butler 
and the coach-horse. 

Sir p. You did, you did, and the horse's name was 
Dobbin. (Lady T. shakes her head emphatically.) This, 
madam, was your situation ; and what have I done for you? I 
have made you a woman of fashion, of fortune, of rank; in 
short, I have made you my wife.. {Crosses to l.) 

Lady T. {crossing to r.). Well, then, — and there is but 
one thing more you can make me to add to the obligation. 

Sir p. And that is ? 




THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 2$ 

Lady T. Your widow ! 

Sir p. I thank you, madam — but don't flatter yourself; for 
though your ill-conduct may disturb my peace of mind, it shall 
never break my heart, I promise you. However, I am equally 
obliged to you for the hint. 

Lady T. Then why will you endeavor to make yourself so 
disagreeable to me, and thwart me in every little elegant 
expense ? 

Sir p. 'Slife, madam, I say, had you any of these little 
elegant expenses when you married me? 

Lady T. Lud, Sir Peter ! would you have me be out of the 
fashion ? 

Sir P. The fashion, indeed ! What had you to do with 
the fashion before you married me ? 

Lady T. For my part, I should think you would like to 
have your wife thought a woman of taste. 

Sir p. Ay — there again — taste. Zounds ! madam, you 
had no taste when you married me ! 

Lady T. That's very true, indeed, Sir Peter. (Lady T. 
/akes him by the right arm and shakes her finger in his face 
laughingly. Sir P. suddenly realizes what he has said — he 
goes up and down the stage in disgust with himself.) 
And after having married you I should never pretend to taste 
again, I allow. But now, Sir Peter, since we have finished our 
daily jangle, I presume 1 may go to my engagement at Lady 
Sneerwell's. {Crosses to l.) 

Sir p. {coming down R.). Ay, there's another precious cir- 
cumstance — a charming set of acquaintance you have made 
there. 

Lady T. Nay, Sir Peter, they are all people of rank and 
fortune, and remarkably tenacious of reputation. 

Sir p. Yes, egad, they are tenacious of reputation with a 
vengeance; for they don't choose anybody should have a char- 
acter but themselves ! Such a crew ! Ah ! many a wretch 
has rid on a hurdle who has done less mischief than these ut- 
terers of forged tales, coiners of scandal and clippers of repu- 
tation. 

Lady T. What ! would you restrain the freedom of speech ? 

Sir p. Ah ! they have made you just as bad as any one of 
the society. 

Lady T. Why, I believe I do bear a part with a tolerable 
grace. 

Sir p. Gr?ice, quotha ! 



26 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

READY change* 

Lady T. But I vow I bear no malice against the people I 
abuse. When I say an ill-natured thing, 'tis out of pure good 
humor ; and I take it for granted they deal exactly in the same 
manner with me. But, Sir Peter, you know you promised to 
come to Lady Sneerwell's, too. 

Sir p. Well, well, I'll call in just to look after my own 
character. 

Lady T. Then, indeed, you must make haste after me, or 
you'll be too late. So good-bye to ye. {Goes to door at 
L. I E. Turns back to laugh aggravatingly at him.) So bye- 
bye, Sir Peter. Never, never, never differ again. {Laughs.) 

Exit, L. I E. 

Sir p. (c). So — I have gained much by my intended ex- 
postulation. Yet with what a charming air she contradicts 
everything I say, and how pfeasingly she shows her contempt 
for my authority ! Well, though I can't make her love me, 
there is great satisfaction in quarreling with her ; and I think 
she never appears to such advantage as when she is doing 
everything in her power to plague and torment me. 

Exit, R. I E. 

CHANGE set. 



Scene II. — Drawing-room at Lady S.'s, set to full depth of 
stage. Inner room visible at back through wide cen- 
ter door, where company are seated playing cards. 
Doors R. and l. i e. and r. 3 e. Tables r. and l. 
Discovered at table at r., Joseph at r., Sir B. ^/l.. Crab. 
sitting behind table. At l., Mrs. C. ^/ r. of table. 
Lady S. at l. Serv. attending with tea. 

LIGHTS f«n «p. 

Lady S. Nay, positively we will hear it. 
Joseph. Yes, yes, the epigram, by all means. 
Sir B. O plague on't, uncle ! 'tis mere nonsense. 
Crab. No, no ; 'fore Gad, very clever for an extempore ! 
Sir B. {rising and coming to c). But, ladies, you should 
be acquainted with the circumstance. You must know that 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 2/ 

one day last week, as Lady Betty Curricle was taking the dust 
in Hyde Park, in a sort of duodecimo phaeton, she desired me 
to write some verses on her ponies; upon which 1 took out my 
pocketbook, and in one moment produced the following : 

Sure never were seen two such beautiful ponies ; 
Other horses are clowns, but these macaronies ; 
To give them this title I'm sure is not wrong. 
Their legs are so slim, and their tails are so long. 

Crab. There, ladies, done in the smack of a whip, and on 
horseback, too. 

Joseph. A very Phoebus, mounted — indeed. Sir Benjamin. 
Sir B. O dear, sir ! trifles — trifles. {Returns to R. C.) 

Enter at c. Lady T., followed by Maria. 

Mrs. C. (rising and crossing to Sir B.). I must have a 
copy. 

Lady S. (rising and crossing to c, to meet Lady T.). 
Lady Teazle, I hope we shall see Sir Peter. 

Lady T. (c). I believe he'll wait on your ladyship pres- 
ently. 

Lady S. (l. c. ). Maria, my dear, you look grave. Come, 
you shall sit down to piquet with Mr. Surface. 

(Joseph crosses to r. c, and gives his arm to Maria.) 

Maria (r. c). I take very little pleasure in cards; how- 
ever, I'll do as your ladyship pleases. 

(Retires up c. with Lady S. ««rt^ Joseph, and sets up card table 
in inner room as Lady S. comes down l.) 

Lady T. (aside'). I am surprised Mr. Surface should sit 
down with her ; I thought he would have embraced this oppor- 
tunity of speaking to me, before Sir Peter came. 

Mrs. C. (they all advance, Crab, at r.. Sir B., r. c. Lady 
T., c, Mrs. C, l. c, Lady S., l.). Now, I'll die, but you 
are all so scandalous I'll forswear your society. 

Lady T. What's the matter, Mrs. Candour? 

Mrs. C. They'll not allow our friend Miss Vermillion to be 
handsome, 



28 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Lady S. Oh, surely she is a pretty woman. 
. Crab. I am very glad you think so, ma'am. 

Mrs, C. She has a charming fresh color. 

Lady T. Yes, when it is fresh put on^ 

Mrs. C. O fie ! I'll swear her color is natural ; I have 
seen it come and go. 

Lady T. I dare swear you have, ma'am ; it goes off at 
night and comes again in the morning. 

Sir B. And what's more, her maid can fetch and carry it. 

Mrs. C. Ha ! ha ! ha ! how I hate to hear you talk so ! 
But surely now, her sister /V, or was^ very handsome. 

Crab. Who ? Mrs. Evergreen ? O Lord ! she's six-and- 
fifty if she's an hour ! 

Mrs. C. Now positively you wrong her ; fifty-two or fifty- 
three is the utmost, and I don't think she looks more. 

Sir B. Ah ! there's no judging by her looks, unless one 
could see her face. 

Lady S. Well, well, if Mrs. Evergreen does take some pains 
to repair the ravages of time, you must allow she effects it with 
great ingenuity; and surely that's better than the careless man- 
ner in which the widow Ochre caulks her wrinkles. 

Sir B. Nay, now, Lady Sneerwell, you are severe upon the 
widow. Come, come, 'tis not that she paints so ill, but when 
she has finished her face she joins it on so badly to her neck 
that she looks like an ill mended statue, in which the connoisseur 
may see at once that the head is modern though the trunk is 
antique. 

Crab. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Well said, nephew. 

(Servs. pass around coffee , etc.y and wait behind.) 

Mrs. C. Ha ! ha 1 ha ! Well, you make me laugh ; but I 
vow I hate you for it. What do you think of Miss Simper ? 

Sir B. Why, she has very pretty teeth. 

Lady T. Yes, and on that account, when she is neither 
speaking nor laughing (which very seldom happens), she never 
absolutely shuts her mouth, but leaves it always ajar, as it were, 
— thus. (Shows her teeth?) 

Mrs C. How can you be so ill-natured ? 

Lady T. Nay, I allow even that's better than the pains 
Mrs. Prim takes to conceal her losses in front. She draws her 
mouth till it positively resembles the aperture of a poor's box, 
and all her words appear to slide out edgewise, as it were, — 
thus — How do you do, madam? Yes, madam. (Mimics?) 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 29 

Lady S. Very well, Lady Teazl^e ; I see you can be a little 
severe. 

Lady T. In defense of a friend it is but justice. But here 
comes Sir Peter to spoil our pleasantry. (^Crosses to SirB.) 

Enter Sir P. at c. 

Sir p. {coming dowti). Ladies, your most obedient. 
{Aside.) Mercy on me; there is the whole set ! A character 
dead at every word, I suppose. 

Mrs. C. I am rejoiced you are come, Sir Peter. They 
have been so censorious — they'll allow good qualities to nobody. 

Sir p. (l. c). That must be very distressing io you, in- 
deed, Mrs. Candour. 

Mrs. C. Not even good nature to our friend Mrs. Pursy. 

Lady T. (r. c). What, the fat dowager who was at Mrs. 
Quadrille's last night ? 

Mrs. C. Nay, but her bulk is her misfortune ; and when 
she takes such pains to get rid of it you ought not to reflect on 
her. 

Lady S. That's very true, indeed. 

Lady T. Yes, I know she almost lives on acids and small 
whey ; laces herself by puUies ; and often in the hottest noon 
in summer you may see her on a little squat pony, with her 
hair plaited up behind like a drummer's, and puffing round the 
ring on a full trot. 

Mrs. C. I thank you, Lady Teazle, for defending her. 

Sir p. Yes, a good defense, truly ! 

Mrs. C. But Sir Benjamin is as censorious as Miss Sallow. 

Crab. Yes, and she is a curious being to pretend to be 
censorious — an awkward gawky, without any one good point 
under heaven. 

Mrs. C. Positively, you shall not be so severe. Miss Sal- 
low is a near relation of mine. 

All. Eh? 

Mrs. C. By marriage. 

All. Oh ! 

Mrs. C. And as for her person, great allowance is to be 
made ; for, let me tell you, a woman labors under many disad- 
vantages who tries to pass for a girl at six-and-thirty. 

Lady S. Though surely she is handsome still — and for the 
weakness in her eyes, considering how much she reads by can-l 
dlelight, it is not to be wondered at. ] 

Mrs. C. True, and then as to her manner ; upon my word * 



30 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

I think it is particularly graceful, considering she never had the 
least education ; for you know her mother was a Welsh milli- 
ner, and her father a sugar-baker at Bristol. 

Sir B. Ah ! you are both of you too good-natured ! 

Sir p. (aside). Yes, damned good-natured ! This their 
own relation ! Mercy on me ! 

Sir B. And Mrs. Candour is of so moral a turn. 

Mrs. C. Well, I will never join ridiculing a friend ; and 
so I constantly tell my Cousin Ogle ; and you all know what 
pretensions she has to be critical on beauty. 

Crab. Oh, to be sure ! She has herself the oddest coun- 
tenance that ever was seen ; 'tis a collection of features from all 
the different countries of the globe. 

Sir B. So she has, indeed — an Irish front. 

Crab. Caledonian locks 

Sir B. Dutch nose 

Crab. Austrian lips 



Sir B. Complexion of a Spaniard 



Crab. And teeth a la Chinois (All laugh!) 

Sir B. In short, her face resembles a table d'hote at Spa — 
where no two guests are of a nation {All laugh.) 

Crab. Or a congress at the close of a general war — wherein 
all the members, even to her eyes, appear to have a different 
interest, and her nose and chin are the only parties likely to 
join issue. 

Mrs. C. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Sir p. (aside). Mercy on my life ! — a person they dine 
with twice a week. 

Mrs. C. Nay, but I vow you shall not carry the laugh off 
so — for give me leave to say that Mrs. Ogle 

Sir p. Madam, madam, I beg your pardon — there's no 
stopping these good gentlemen's tongues. But when I tell you, 
Mrs. Candour, that the lady they are abusing is a particular 
friend of mine, I hope you'll not take her part. 

(Mrs. C. turns up the stage.) 

Lady S. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Well said. Sir Peter ! but you are 
a cruel creature, — too phlegmatic yourself for a jest, and too 
peevish to allow wit in others. 

Sir p. Ah ! madam, true wit is more nearly allied to good 
nature than your ladyship is aware of. 

Lady T. True, Sir Peter ; I believe they are so near akin 
that they can never be united. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 3I 

Sir B. Or rather, suppose them man and wife, because one 
so seldom sees them together. 

Lady T. But Sir Peter is such an enemy to scandal I be- 
lieve he would have it put down by 

All. Why? 

Lady T. Act of Parliament. 

Sir p. 'Fore heaven, madam, if they were to consider the 
sporting with reputation of as much importance as poaching on 
manors, and pass an act for the preservation of fame, as well as 
game, I believe many would thank them for the bill. 

Lady S. O lud ! Sir Peter, would you deprive us of our 
privileges ? 

Sir p. Ay, madam ; and then no person should be per- 
mitted to kill characters and run down reputation but qualified 
old maids and disappointed widows. 

Lady S. Go, you monster ! (^Goes up stage a little.) 

Mrs. C. (coming down l.). But surely you would not be 
quite so severe on those who only report what they hear ? 

Sir p. Yes, madam, I would have law merchant for them, 
too ; and in all cases of slander currency, whenever the drawer 
of the lie was not to be found, the injured parties should have 
a right to come on any of the indorsers. 

Crab. Well, for my part, I believe there never was a scan- 
dalous tale without some foundation. 

Mrs r I ^^v^^ • iiever J never ! 

Sir p. Nine out of ten founded on some groundless report 
or malicious misrepresentation. 

Enter Serv. at c. ; comes down behind Sir P. and whispers 

in his ear. 

Lady S. Come, ladies, shall we sit down to cards in the 
next room ? 

Sir p. {to the Serv.). Til be with them directly. {Aside.) 
I'll get away unperceived. {Starts up stage.) 

Exit Serv. at c. 

Lady S. Sir Peter, you are not going to leave us ? 
Sir p. Your ladyship must excuse me; I'm called away by 
particular business. But I leave my character behind me. 

Exit, c. 



32 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Lady T. {calling after him). You'd better take it with 
you, Sir Peter. 

Sir B. Or we shall handle it most unmercifully. Well — 
certainly, Lady Teazle, that lord of yours is a strange being. 
I could tell you some stories of him that would make you 
laugh heartily, if he were not your husband. 

Lady T. Oh, pray don't mind that; — why don't you? 
Come, do let's hear them. 

Exit with the rest of the company going into the next room, 
R. u. E., leaving Joseph and Maria who advance. 

Joseph (r. c). Maria, I see you have no satisfaction in 
this society. 

Maria (l. c). How is it possible I should ? If to raise 
malicious smiles at the infirmities or misfortunes of those 
who have never injured us be the province of wit or humor, 
heaven grant me a double portion of dullness ! 

Joseph. Yet they appear more ill-natured than they are; 
they have no malice at heart. 

Maria. Then is their conduct still more contemptible, for, 
in my opinion, nothing could excuse the intemperance of their 
tongues but a natural and uncontrollable bitterness of mind. 

Joseph. But can you, Maria, feel thus for others, and be 
unkind to me alone? Is hope to be denied the tenderest 
passion ? 

Maria. Why will you distress me by renewing this subject ? 

Joseph. Ah, Maria, you would not treat me thus, and op- 
pose your guardian, Sir Peter's will, but that I see that profli- 
gate Charles is still a favored rival. 

Maria. Ungenerously urged ! But whatever my senti- 
ments are for that unfortunate young man, be assured I shall 
not feel more bound to give him up because his distresses have 
lost him the regard even of a brother. {Crosses r.) 

Joseph {crossing l.). Nay, but Maria, do not leave me 

with a frown. {Kneels.') By all that's honest, I swear 

(Lady T. laughs without. Joseph, aside.) Gad's life {ris- 
ing), here's Lady Teazle ! {Aloud.) You must not — no, you 
shall not — for, though I have the greatest regard for Lady 
Teazle 

Maria. Lady Teazle ! 

Joseph. Yet were Sir Peter to suspect 



Enter Lady T., r. u. e., and comes forzvard^ C, 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 33 

Lady T. {aside). What is this, pray? {To Maria.) 
Child, you are wanted in the next room. (Exit Maria, 
R. u. E.) What is all this, pray? Did you take her for me? 

Joseph {rising). Oh, the most unlucky circumstance in 
nature ! Maria has somehow suspected the tender concern I 
have for your happiness, and threatened to acquaint Sir Peter 
with her suspicions, and I was just endeavoring to reason with 
her when you came in. 

Lady T. Indeed ! But you seemed to adopt a very tender 
method of reasoning. Do you usually argue on your knees ? 

Joseph. Oh, she's a child, and 1 thought a little bom- 
bast But, Lady Teazle {approaching nearer and speak- 
ing co7ifidentially), when are you to give me your judgment on 
my library, as you promised ? 

Lady T. No, no ; I begin to think it would be imprudent, 
and you know I admit you as a lover no further than fashion 
requires. 

Joseph. True, a mere platonic cicisbeo — what every Lon- 
don wife is entitled to. 

READY change* 

Lady T. Certainly, one must not be out of the fashion. 
However, I have so many of my country prejudices left that, 
though Sir Peter's ill-humor may vex me ever so, it never shall 
provoke me to 

Joseph. The only revenge in your power. Well, I ap- 
plaud your moderation. 

Lady T. Go; you are an insinuating wretch. {Crosses L.) 
But we shall be missed ; let us join the company. 

Joseph {crossing r.). But we had better not return together. 

Lady T. Well, don't stay; {up c.) for Maria shan't come 
to hear any more of your reasoning, I promise you. 

Exit, r. u. e. 

Joseph. A curious dilemma, truly, my politics have run 
me into ! I wanted, at first, only to ingratiate myself with 
Lady Teazle, that she might not be my enemy with Maria; 
and I have, I don't know how, become her serious lover. 
Sincerely, I begin to wish I had never made such a point of 
gaining so very good a character, for it has led me into so 
many damn'd rogueries that I doubt I shall be exposed at last. 

Exit, c. 

CHANGE set* 



34 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Scene III. — Sir P.'s. Front set with drop. 
Enter Sir Oliver Surface and Row., l. i e. 

LIGHTS fall up* 

Sir O. (r.). Ha ! ha ! ha ! So my old friend is married, 
hey ? — a young wife out of the country — ha ! ha ! ha ! That 
he should have stood bluff to old bachelor so long, and sink 
into a husband at last. 

Row. (l.). But you must not rally him on the subject, 
Sir Oliver; 'tis a tender point I assure you, though he has 
been married only seven months. 

Sir O. Then he has been just half a year on the stool of 
repentance ! Poor Peter ! But you say he has entirely given 
up Charles, — never sees him*, hey ? 

Row. His prejudice against him is astonishing, and I am 
sure greatly increased by a jealousy of him with Lady Teazle, 
which he has been industriously led into by a scandalous 
society in the neighborhood, who have contributed not a little 
to Charles's ill name. Whereas the truth is, I believe, if the . 
lady is partial to either of them, his brother is the favorite. ' 

Sir O. {crossing l.). Ay, I know there are a set of mali- 
cious, prating, impudent gossips, both male and female, who 
murder characters to kill time ; and will rob a young fellow of 
his good name before he has years to know the value of it. 
But I am not to be prejudiced against my nephew by such, I 
promise you. No, no,^ — if Charles has done nothing false or 
mean, I shall compound for his extravagance. 

Row. {crossing r.). Then, my life on't, you will reclaim ' 
him. Ah, sir, it gives me new life to find that your heart is . 
not turned against him ; and that the son of my good old 
master has one friend, however, left. 

Sir O. What, shall I forget, Master Rowley, when I was at 
his years myself? Egad, my brother and I were neither of us 
very prudent youths , and yet I believe you have not seen 
many better men than your old master was. 

Row. Sir, 'tis this reflection gives me assurance that 
Charles may yet be a credit to his family. But here comes 
Sir Peter. {Goes a little t/p ; both look off^ r.) 

Sir O. Egad, so he does. Mercy on me! — he's greatly 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 35 

altered and seems to have a settled married look ! One may 
read husband in his face at this distance ! 

Enter Sir P., r. i e. 

Sir P. (r.). Ha! Sir Oliver — my old friend! Welcome 
to England a thousand and a thousand times I 

Sir O. {coming to c. as Row. crosses to l.). Thank you 
— thank you, Sir Peter ! and i' faith I am glad to find you well, 
believe me. 

Sir p. (r.). Oh ! 'tis a long time since we met — fifteen 
years I doubt, Sir Oliver, and many a cross accident in the 
time. 

Sir O. Ay, I have had my share. But what ! I find you 
are married, hey, my old boy ? Well, well, it can't be helped 
— and so I wish you joy with all my heart. 

Sir p. Thank you, thank you, Sir OHver. Yes, I have 
entered into — hem ! — the happy state — but we'll not talk of 
that now. 

Sir O. True, true. Sir Peter ; old friends should not begin 
on grievances at first meeting — no, no, no. 

Row. Take care, pray, sir. 

Sir O. Well, so one of my nephews is a wild rogue I find, 
hey? 

Sir p. Wild ! Ah ! my old friend, I grieve for your dis- 
appointment there; he's a lost young man, indeed. However, 
his brother will make you amends ; Joseph is, indeed, what a 
youth should be. Everybody in the world speaks well of him. 

Sir O. I am sorry to hear it ; he has too good a character 
to be an honest fellow. Everybody speaks well of him ! 
Pshaw ! then he has bowed as low to knaves and fools as to 
the honest dignity of genius and virtue. 

Sir p. What, Sir Oliver ! you blame him for not making 
enemies ? 

Sir O. Yes, if he has merit enough to deserve them. 

Sir p. Well, well ; you'll be convinced when you know 
him. 'Tis edification to hear him converse ; he professes the 
noblest sentiments. 

WARN curtain* 

Sir O. Oh ! plague of his sentiments ! If he salutes me 
with a scrap of morality in his mouth, I shall be sick directly. 
But, however, don't mistake me. Sir Peter ; I don't mean to de- 
fend Charles's errors ; but before I form my judgment of either 



36 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

of them, I intend to make a trial of their hearts \ and my 
friend Rowley and I have planned something for the purpose. 

Row. And Sir Peter shall own for once he has been mis- 
taken. 

Sir p. Oh ! my life on Joseph's honor. 

Sir O. Well — come, give us a bottle of good wine, and 
we'll drink the lad's health, and tell you our scheme. 

Sir p. Allans, then ! 

Sir O. And don't, Sir Peter {crossing to r.), be so 
severe against your old friend's son. Odds my life I I am not 
sorry that he has run out of the course a little ; for my part I 
hate to see prudence clinging to the green suckers of youth ; 'tis 
like ivy round a sapling, and spoils the growth of the tree. 

RING quick curtain^ 
Exeunt, r. i e. 

CURTAIN 



ACT III 



Scene I. — Sir P.'s. Front set with drop in second groove. 

LIGHTS full up* 
Enter Row., r. i -e.., followed by Sir O. and Sm P. 

Sir p. (r.). Well, then, we shall see this fellow first, and 
have our wine afterward. But how is this, Master Rowley, 1 
don't see the jet of your scheme. 

Row. (l.). Why, sir, this Mr. Stanley, whom I was speak- 
ing of, is nearly related to them by their mother. He was once 
a merchant in Dublin, but has been ruined by a series of un- 
deserved misfortunes. He has applied, by letter, since his con- 
finement, both to Mr. Surface and Charles ; from the former he 
has received nothing but evasive promises of future service, 
while Charles has done all that his extravagance has left him 
power to do ; and he is at this time endeavoring to raise a sum 
of money, part of which, in the midst of his own distresses, I 
know he intends for the service of poor Stanley. 

Sir O. (c). Ah ! he is my brother's son. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 37 

Sir p. Well, but how is Sir Oliver personally to 

Row. Why, sir, I will inform Charles and his brother that 
Stanley has obtained permission to apply personally to his 
friends, and as they have neither of them ever seen him, let Sir 
Oliver assume his character, and he will have a fair opportunity 
of judging, at least, of, the benevolence of their dispositions; 
and beheve me, sir, you will find in the youngest brother one 
who, in the midst of folly and dissipation, has still, as our im- 
mortal bard expresses it, "a heart to pity, and a hand open as 
day for melting charity." 

Sir p. Pshaw ! What signifies his having an open hand, 
or purse either, when he has nothing left to give ? Well, well 
— make the trial, if you please. But where is the fellow whom 
you brought for Sir Oliver to examine, relative to Charles's af- 
fairs ? 

Row. Below, waiting his commands, and no one can give 
him better intelligence. This, Sir Oliver, is a friendly Jew, 
who, to do him justice, has done everything in his power to 
bring your nephew to a proper sense of his extravagance. 

Sir p. Pray let us have him in. 

Row. {speaking off l.). Desire Mr. Moses to walk up- 
stairs. 

Sir p. But pray, why should you suppose he will tell the 
truth ? 

Row. Oh ! I have convinced him that he has no chance 
of recovering certain sums advanced to Charles but through 
the bounty of Sir Oliver, who he knows is arrived ; so that 
you may depend on his fidelity to his own interests ; I have 
also another evidence in my power, one Snake, whom I have 
detected in a matter little short of forgery, and shall shortly 
produce to remove some of your prejudices. Sir Peter, relative 
to Charles and Lady Teazle. 

Sir p. I have heard too much on that subject. 

(^Goes up R. c.) 

Row. Here comes the honest Israelite. (Enter Moses, 
L. I. E.) This is Sir Oliver. 

(Row. goes up and crosses to R. by Sir P.) 

Sir O. Sir, I understand you have lately had great deal- 
ings with my nephew, Charles. 

Moses (down stage l.). Yes, Sir Oliver, I have done all I 



38 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

could for him ; but he was ruined before he came to me for as- 
sistance. 

Sir O. (l. c). That was unlucky, truly; for you had no 
opportunity of showing your talents. 

Moses. None at all ; I hadn't the pleasure of knowing his 
distresses till he was some thousands worse than nothing. 

Sir O. Unfortunate, indeed ! But I suppose you have 
done all in your power for him, honest Moses ? 

Moses. Yes, he knows that ; this very evening I was to 
have brought him a gentleman from the city, who does not 
know him, and will, I believe, advance him some money. 

Sir p. What ! One Charles never had money from before? 

(Sir p. comes down r. c.) 

Moses. Yes — Mr. Premium, of Crutched Friars, formerly a 
broker. 

Sir P. Egad, Sir Oliver, g, thought strikes me ! Charles, 
you say, does not know Mr. Premium ? 

Moses. Not at all. 

Sir p. Now then. Sir Oliver, you may have a better oppor- 
tunity of satisfying yourself than by an old romancing tale of a 
poor relation : go with my friend Moses, and represent 
Premium, and then, I'll answer for it, you'll see your nephew 
in all his glory. 

Sir O. Egad, I like this idea better than the other, and I 
may visit Joseph afterward, as old Stanley. 

Sir p. True — so you may. 

Row. (comifig down r.). Well, this is taking Charles rather 
at a disadvantage, to be sure ; however, Moses, you understand 
Sir Peter, and will be faithful ? (^Goes up r.) 

Moses. You may depend upon me. (^Looks at his watch,) 
This is near the time I was to have gone. 

Sir O. I'll accompany you as soon as you please, Moses. 
But hold ! I have forgot one thing — how the plague shall I be 
able to pass for a Jew ? 

Moses. There's no need — the principal is Christian. 

Sir O. Is he? I'm very sorry to hear it. But then again, 
ain't I rather too smartly dressed to look like a money lender? 

Sir p. Not at all ; 'twould not be out of character if you 
went in your own carriage, would it, Moses ? 

Moses. Not in the least. I drive a gig myself. 

Sir O. Well, but how must I talk? There's certainly some 
cant of usury and mode of treating that I ought to know, 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 39 

Sir p. O ! there's not much to learn. The great point, as 
I take it, is to be exorbitant enough in your demands — hey, 
Moses ? 

Moses. Yes, that's a very great point. 

Sir O. I'll answer for't I'll not be wanting in that. 1*11 ask 
him eight or ten per cent, on the loan, at least. 

Moses. If you ask him no more than that, you'll be dis- 
covered immediately. 

Sir O. Hey ! — what the plague ! — how much, then ? 

Moses. That depends upon the circumstances. If he ap- 
pears not very anxious for the supply, you should require only 
, forty or fifty per cent. ; but if you find him in great distress, 
and want the moneys very bad, you may ask double. 

Sir O. {turning to Sir P.). You may ask him double ! 

(JLaughs.') 

Sir p. a good honest trade you're learning. Sir Oliver. 

Sir O. Truly, I think so — and not unprofitable. 

Moses. Then, you know, you haven't the moneys yourself, 
but are forced to borrow them for him from a friend. 

Sir O. Oh ! I borrow it of a friend, do I ? 

Moses. Yes ; and your friend is an unconscionable dog ; 
but you can't help that. 

Sir O. My friend an unconscionable dog, is he ? 

Moses. Yes, and he himself has not the money by him, but 
is forced to sell stock at a great loss. 

Sir O. He is forced to sell stock at a great loss, is he ? 
Well, that's very kind of him. 

Sir p. I'faith, Sir Oliver — Mr. Premium, I mean — you'll 
soon be master of the trade. 

Sir O. Moses shall give me further instructions as we go 
together. 

Sir p. You will not have much time, for your nephew 
lives hard by. 

Sir O. O ! never fear ; my tutor appears so able that 
though Charles lived in the next street, it must be my own 
fault if I am not a complete rogue before I turn the corner. 

Exeunt Sir O. and Moses, l. i e., the latter turning at door 
to bow respectfully to Sir P. 

Sir p. (l. c). So now \ think Sir Oliver will be con- 



40 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

vinced. You are partial, Rowley, and would have prepared 
Charles for the other plot. 

Row. (r. c). No, upon my word, Sir Peter. 

Sir p. Well, go bring me this Snake, and I'll hear what he 
has to say, presently. I see Maria, and want to speak with 
her. (Exit Row., r. i e.) I should be glad to be convinced 
my suspicions of Lady Teazle and Charles were unjust. I 
have never yet opened my mind on this subject to my friend 
Joseph. I am determined I will do it ; he will give me his 
opinion sincerely. (^Crosses R. Enter Maria, l. i e.) So, 
child, has Mr. Surface returned with you ? 

Maria (l.). No, sir ; he was engaged. 

Sir p. (r.). Well, Maria, do you not reflect, the more you 
converse with that amiable young man, what return his par- 
tiality for you deserves ? 

Maria. Indeed, Sir Peter, your frequent importunity on this 
subject distresses me extremely ; you compel me to declare that 
I know no man who has ever paid me a particular attention 
whom I would not prefer to Mr. Surface. 

Sir p. So — here's perverseness ! No, no, Maria, 'tis 
Charles only whom you would prefer. 'Tis evident his vices 
and follies have won your heart. 

Maria. This is unkind, sir. You know I have obeyed you 
in neither seeing nor corresponding with him ; I have heard 
enough to convince me that he is unworthy my regard. Yet I 
cannot think it culpable, if, while my understanding severely 
condemns his vices, my heart suggests some pity for his dis- 
tresses. 

Sir p. Well, well, pity him as much as you please, but give 
your heart and hand to a worthy object. (^Crosses l.) 

Maria (crossing r.). Never to his brother. 

Sir p. Go — perverse and obstinate ! But take care, 
madam ; you have never yet known what the authority of a 
guardian is ; don't compel me to inform you of it. 

Maria. I can only say you shall not have just reason. 'Tis 
true, by my father's will, I am for a short period bound to re- 
gard you as his substitute, but I must cease to think you so 
when you would compel me to be miserable. 

Exit, R. I E. 

Sir P. (c). Was ever man so crossed as I am? Every- 
thing conspiring to fret me ! I had not been involved in 
imatrimony a fortnight before h^r father, a hale and hearty 



i 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 4I 

man, died, on purpose, I believe, for the pleasure of plaguing 
me with the care of his daughter. (Lady T. sings without at 
R.) But here comes my helpmate ! She appears in great 
good-humor. How happy I should be if I could tease her into 
loving me, though but a little ! 

Enter Lady T., r. i e. 

Lady T. (r.). Lud ! Sir Peter, I hope you haven't been 
quarreling with Maria? It is not using me well to be ill- 
humored when I am not by. 

Sir p. (l.). Ah ! Lady Teazle, you might have the power 
to make me good-humored at all times. 

Lady T. I am sure I wish I had, for I want you to be in a 
monstrous sweet temper at this moment. ( Comes close to him 
and lays hand on his arm.) Do be good-humored now, and 
let me have two hundred pounds, will you ? 

Sir p. Two hundred pounds 1 What, ain't I to be in a 
good-humor without paying a monstrous good price for it ? 
But speak to me thus, and i'faith there's nothing I could refuse 
you. You shall have it. (^Gives her notes.) But seal me a 
bond of repayment. 

Lady T. O no — there — my note of hand will do as well. . 

(^Offers her hand.) 

Sir p. {kissing her hand). I honor the acceptance. And 
you shall no longer reproach me with not giving you an inde- 
pendent settlement. I mean shortly to surprise you : — but 
shall we always live thus, hey ? 

Lady T. If you please. I'm sure I don't care how soon we 
leave off quarreling, provided you'll own you were tired first. 

Sir p. Well, then, let our future contest be, who shall be 
most obliging. 

{She takes his arm and they walk to and fro.) 

Lady T. I assure you, Sir Peter, good-nature becomes 
you ; you look now as you did before we were married, when 
you used to walk with me under the elms, and tell me stories of 
what a gallant you were in your youth, and chuck me under 
the chin, you would ; and ask me if I thought I could love an 
old fellow, who would deny me nothing — didn't you ? Didn't 
you ? Didn't you ? 

Sir p. Yes, yes, and you were kind and attentive 



42 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Lady T. Ay, so I was, and would always take your part 
when my acquaintance used to abuse you and turn you into 
ridicule. 

Sir p. Indeed ! Hem ! 

Lady T. Ay, and when my Cousin Sophy has called you a 
stiff, peevish old bachelor, and laughed at me for thinking of 
marrying one who might be my father, I have always defended 
you, and said I didn't think you so ugly by any means. 

Sir p. Thank you. 

Lady T. And I dared say you'd make a very good sort of 
a husband. 

Sir p. And you prophesied right : and we shall now be the 
happiest couple 

{They pause at c — Lady T. at r., Sir P. at l.) 

Lady T. And never differ. again? 

Lady T \ ^^^^ ^^ hand. \ Never — never, never. 

Sir p. No, never ! — though at the same time, indeed, my 
dear Lady Teazle, you must watch your temper very seriously ; 
for in all our little quarrels, my dear, if you recollect, my love, 
you always begin first. 

Lady T. 1 beg your pardon, my dear Sir Peter; indeed, 
you always gave the provocation. 

Sir p. Now see, my angel ! take care — contradicting isn't 
the way to keep friends. 

Lady T. Then don't you begin it, my love ! 

Sir p. There, now ! you — you are going on. You don't 
perceive, my life, that you are just doing the very thing which 
you know always makes me angry. 

Lady T. Nay, you know if you will be angry without any 
reason, my dear 

Sir p. There ! now you want to quarrel again. 

Lady T. No, I am sure I don't: — but if you will be so 
peevish 

Sir p. There now ! who begins first ? 

Lady T. Why you, to be sure. I said nothing — but there's 
no bearing your temper. 

Sir p. No, no, madam ; the fault's in your own temper. 

Lady T. Ay, you are just what my Cousin Sophy said you 
would be. 

Sir p. Your Cousin Sophy is a forward, impertinent gipsy. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 43 

Lady T. You are a great bear ! 

Sir p. a what ? 

Lady T. You're a great bear, I'm sure, to abuse my rela- 
tions. 

Sir p. Now may all the plagues of marriage be doubled on 
me if ever I try to be friends with you any more. 

Lady T. So much the better. 

Sir p. No, no, madam : 'tis evident you never cared a pin 
for me, and I was a madman to marry you — a pert, rural 
coquette, that had refused half the honest 'squires in the 
neighborhood. 

Lady T. And I am sure I was a fool to marry you — an old 
dangling bachelor, who was single at fifty only because he 

READY change* 
never could meet with any one who would have him. 

(Crosses L.) 

Sir p. (c). Ay, ay, madam ; but you were pleased enough 
to listen to me ; you never had such an offer before. 

Lady T. No; didn't I refuse Sir Tivy Terrier, who every- 
body said would have been a better match ? for his estate is 
just as good as yours, and he has broke his neck since we have 
been married. {Crosses r.) 

Sir p. 1 have done with you, madam ! You are an un- 
feeling, ungrateful — but there's an end of everything. I believe 
you capable of everything that is bad. Yes, madam, I now 
believe the reports relative to you and Charles, madam. Yes, 
madam, you and Charles are not without foundation 

(^Crosses L.) 

Lady T. (crossing r.). Take care, Sir Peter ! you had 
better not insinuate any such thing ! I'll not be suspected 
without cause, I promise you. 

Sir p. Very well, madam ! very well ! A separate mainte- 
nance as soon as you please ! 

Lady T. Separate maintenance. Yes, a separate mainte- 
nance. (Laughs.) 

Sir p. Yes, madam, or a divorce ! I'll make an example 
of myself for the benefit of all old bachelors. 

Lady T. Agreed ! agreed ! And now, my dear Sir Peter, 
we are of a mind once more, we may be the happiest couple — 



44 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

and never differ again, you know — ha ! ha ! ha ! Well, you 
are going to be in a passion, I see, and I shall only interrupt 
you — so by-bye. {Crosses to door at "R. Turns back.') Sir 
Peter {imitating him), never, never, never differ again. 

(^Laughs and exit, r. i e.) 

Sir p. Plagues and tortures ! Can't I make her angry 
either ! Oh, I am the most miserable fellow ! But I'll not 
bear her presuming to keep her temper : no ! she may break 
my heart but she shan't keep her temper. 



Exit, R. I E. 



CHANGE set. 



Scene II. — Charles Surface's house. Frofit set in first 
groove. 

LIGHTS full up. 

Enter Trip, Sir O. and Moses, l. i e. 

Trip (r.). Here, Master Moses! if you'll stay a moment, 
I'll try whether — what's the gentleman's name ? 
Sir O. (c). Mr. Moses, what is my name ? 
Moses (l.). Mr. Premium. 
Trip. Premium — very well. 

Exit Trip, taking snuff, r. i e. 

Sir O. (r.). To judge by the servants, one wouldn't be- 
lieve the master was ruined. But what ! — sure this was my 
brother's house ? 

Moses (l.). Yes, sir ; Mr. Charles bought it of Mr. Joseph, 
with the furniture, pictures, etc., just as the old gentleman left 
it. Sir Peter thought it a piece of extravagance in him. 

Sir O. In my mind, the other's economy in selling it to 
him was more reprehensible by half. 

Reenter Trip, r. i e. 

Trip (r.). My master says you must wait, gentlemen: he 
has company, and can't speak with you yet. 

Sir O. (r. c). If he knew who it was wanted to see him, 
perhaps he would not send such a message. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 45 

Trip. Yes, yes, sir ; he knows you are here — I did not for- 
get little Premium, no, no, no. 

Sir O. Very wellj and I pray, sir, what may be your 
name ? 

Trip. Trip, sir ; my name is Trip, at your service. 

Sir O. Well then, Mr. Trip, you have a pleasant sort of 
place here, I guess ? 

Trip. Why, yes — here are three or four of us pass our time 
agreeably enough ; but then our wages are sometimes a little in 
arrear — and not very great, either — but fifty pounds a year, 
and find our own bags and bouquets. 

Sir O. {aside). Bags and bouquets ! halters and basti- 
nadoes ! (^Crosses r.) 

Trip {crossing to l. c. to Moses). And, apropos^ Moses — 
have you been able to get me that little bill discounted ? 

Sir O. (aside). Wants to raise money, too ! Mercy on 
me ! Has his distresses, too, I warrant, like a lord, and affects 
creditors and duns. 

Moses (l.). 'Twas not to be done, indeed, Mr. Trip. 

{Gives Trip the note.) 

Trip (c). Good lack, you surprise me ! My friend Brush 
has endorsed it, and I thought when he put his name at the 
back of a bill 'twas the same as cash. ♦ 

Moses. No ! 'twouldn't do. 

Trip. A small sum — but twenty pounds. Hark'ee ; Moses, 
do you think you couldn't get it me by way of annuity? 

Sir O. (r., aside). An annuity ! ha ! ha ! a footman raise 
money by way of annuity ! Well done ; luxury, egad ! 

Moses. Well, but you must insure your place. 

READY change. 

Trip. Oh, with all my heart ! I'll insure my place, and 
my life too, if you please. 

Sir O. {aside). It's more than I would your neck. 

Moses. But is there nothing you could deposit? 

Trip. Why, nothing capital of my master's wardrobe has 
dropped lately ; {bell rings, r.) but I could give you a mortgage 
on some of his winter clothes, with equity of redemption before 
November — or you shall have the reversion of the French vel- 
vet, or a post-obit on the blue and silver. {Bell rings y r.) 



46 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

These, I should think, Moses, with a few pair of point ruffles, as a 

collateral security {Bell rings, K.) Egad (crossing r.), 

I heard the bell ! I believe, gentlemen, I can now introduce 
you. Don't forget the annuity, little Moses. This way, gen- 
tlemen. I'll insure my place, you know. 

Sir O. If the man be a shadow of the master, this is the 
temple of dissipation, indeed ! 



Exeunt, r. i e. 



CHANGE set- 



Scene III. — Antique Hall. Banquet table at C, running 
down stage from back to front. One chair at head of 
table for Charles Surface, and three on each side ; a 
super, Str Harry Bumper and Careless seated r. of ta- 
ble ; super, Sir B. and Crab., l. A few chairs r. and 
L. Supper just over. 

LIGHTS full up* 

Charles {seated at the head of the table'). 'Fore heaven, 
'tis true ! — there's the great degeneracy of the age. Many of 
our acquaintance have taste, spirit, and politeness ; but, plague 
on't, they won't drink wine. 

Care, {seated r. of table). It is so indeed, Charles. They 
give into all the substantial luxuries of the table, and abstain 
from nothing but wine and wit. 

Charles. Oh, certainly society suffers by it intolerably : for 
now, instead of the social spirit of raillery that used to mantle 
over a glass of bright Burgundy, their conversation is become 
just like the Spa water they drink, which has all the pertness 
and flatulency of champagne, without its spirit or flavor. 

Sir H. {seated r. of table). But what are they to do who 
love play better than wine ? 

Care. True. There's Sir Harry diets himself for gaming, 
and is now under a hazard regimen. 

Charles. Then he'll have the worst of it. What ! you 
wouldn't train a horse for the course by keeping him fiom corn ? 
For my part, egad ! I am never so successful as when I am a 
little merry : let me throw on a bottle of champagne, and I 
never lose. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 47 

All. Hey, what? 

Charles. At least, I never feel my losses. 

All. Oh ! 

Charles. Which is exactly the same thing. 

Care. Ay, that I believe, 

Charles. And then, what man can pretend to be a believer 
in love who is an abjurer of wine? 'Tis the test by which the 
lover knows his own heart. Fill a dozen bumpers to a dozen 
beauties, and she that floats at the top is the maid that has be- 
witched you. 

Care. Now, then, Charles, be honest, and give us your 
real favorite. 

Charles. Why, I have withheld her only in compassion to 
you. If I toast her, you must give a round of her peers, which 
is impossible 

All. Oh ! 

Charles. On earth ! 

Care. Oh ! then we'll find some canonized vestals, or 
heathen goddesses that will do, I warrant. 

Charles. Here, then, bumpers, you rogues ! bumpers ! 
(^Rises and holds up his glass.) Maria ! Maria ! 

Sir H. Maria who? 

Charles. Oh, damn the surname ! — 'tis too formal to be 
registered in Love's calendar ; — Maria ! 

All. Maria! {They drink.') 

Sir B. Down goes Maria. 

Care. Maria is drunk. 

Charles. But now. Careless, your song. Beware, we must 
have beauty superlative. 

Sir H. You know you have a song will excuse you. 

Care. Egad, so I have ! and I'll give him the song instead 
of the lady. {Sings.) 

SONG 

Here's to the maiden of bashful fifteen : 

Here's to the widow of fifty : 
Here's to the flaunting extravagant queen. 

And here's to the housewife that's thrifty. 

Chorus. Let the toast pass, — 

Drink to the lass, 
I'll warrant she'll prove an excuse for the glass. 



48 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Here's to the charmer whose dimples we prize, 
Now to the maid who has none, sir ; 

Here's to the girl with a pair of blue eyes, 
And here's the nymph with but one^ sir. 

Chorus. Let the toast pass, etc. 

Here's to the maid with a bosom of snow ; 

Now to her that's as brown as a berry : 
Here's to the wife with a face full of woe, 

And now to the damsel that's merry. 

Chorus, Let the toast pass, etc. 

Enter Trip at r. 2 e. ; whispers to Charles. 

For let 'em be clumsy, or let 'em be slim, 
Young or ancient, I care not a feather ; 

So fill up your glasses, nay, fill to the brim, 
And let us e'en toast them together. 

Chorus. Let the toast pass, etc. 

All. Bravo ! Bravo ! 

Charles. Gentlemen, you must excuse me a little. Care- 
less, take the chair, will you ? 

Care. Nay, prithee, Charles, what now ? This is one of 
your peerless beauties, I suppose, has dropt in by chance ? 

Charles. No, faith ! To tell the truth, 'tis a Jew and a 
broker, who are come by appointment. 

Care. O damn it ! let's have the Jew in. 

Sir H. Ay, and the broker, too, by all means. 

Care. Yes, yes, the Jew and the broker. 

Charles. Egad, with all my heart ! Trip, bid the gentle- 
men walk in (exit Trip, r. 2 e.) — though there's one of them 
a stranger, I can assure you. 

Care. Charles, let us give them some generous Burgundy, 
and perhaps they'll grow conscientious. 

Charles. O hang 'em, no ! wine does but draw forth a 
man's natural qualities ; and to make them drink would only 
be to whet their knavery. (Enter Trip, r. 2 ^.^ followed by 
Sir O. d!«flr Moses. Moses ««^Sir O. cross to l.) So, hon- 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 49 

est Moses, walk in; walk in, pray, Mr. Premium — that's the 
gentleman's name, isn't it, Moses? 

Moses. Yes, sir. 

Charles. Set chairs. Trip (Trip crosses behind table and 
brifigs chairs to Sir O. and Moses down l.) — sit down, Mr. 
Premium — glasses, Trip — sit down, Moses. (They sit to 1,.) 
Come, Mr. Premium, I'll give you a sentiment; here's Success 
to usury / — Moses, fill the gentleman a bumper. 

Moses. Success to usury I 

Care. Right, Moses — usury is prudence and industry, and 
deserves to succeed. 

Sir O. Then here's — All the success it deserves / 

Care, {risings and coming forward). No, no, that won't 
do ! Mr. Premium, you have demurred at the toast, and 
must drink it in a pint bumper. 

Sir H. a pint bumper, at least. 

Moses. O pray, sir, consider — Mr. Premium's a gentleman. 

(Moses and Sir O. rise.) 

Care. And therefore loves good wine. 

Sir H. Give Moses a quart glass ; this is mutiny, and a 
high contempt for the chair. 

Charles {rising). No, hang it, you shan't ! Mr. Pre- 
mium's a stranger. 

Care. Plague on 'em, then ! — if they won't drink, we'll 
not sit down with them. {Down extreme r.) Come, Harry 
{men remaining at table all rise), the dice are in the next 
room — Charles, youTl join us when you have finished your 
business with the gentlemen ? 

Charles (c). I will. I will. (Exeunt all the Gentle- 
men, R. 2 e.. Care, last.) Careless ! 

Care, (returning to r. c). Well? 

Charles. Perhaps I may want you. 

Care. Oh, you know I am always ready : word or bond, 
'tis all the same to me. 

Exit, R. 2 e. 

Moses (l. c). Sir, this is Mr. Premium, a gentleman of 
the strictest honor and secrecy ; and always performs what he 
undertakes. Mr. Premium, this is 

Charles (taking Moses by the ear and putting him across r. ^ 
Sir O. stepping forward to L. c). Pshaw ! have done. Sir, 



50 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

my friend Moses is a very honest fellow, but a little slow at 
expression : he'll be an hour giving us our titles. Mr. Premium, 
the plain state of the matter is this : I am an extravagant young 
fellow, who wants to borrow money — you I take to be a prudent 
old fellow, who has got money to lend. I am blockhead 
enough to give fifty per cent, sooner than not have it ; and 
you, I presume, are rogue enough to take a hundred if you can 
get it. Now, sir, you see we are acquainted at once, and may 
proceed to business without further ceremony. 

Sir O. (aside). Exceeding frank, upon my word. (Aloud.) 
I see, sir, you are not a man of many compliments. 

Charles. Oh, no, sir ; plain dealing in business I always 
think best. 

Sir O. Sir, I like you the better for it — however, you are 
mistaken in one thing ; I have no money to lend, but I believe 
I could procure some of a friend ; but then he's an unconscion- 
able dog — isn't he, Moses ? 

Moses. Oh, yes, sir. 

Sir O. And must sell stock to accommodate you — mustn't 
he, Moses? 

Moses. Yes, indeed ! You know I always speak the truth, 
and scorn to tell a lie ! 

Charles. Right. People that speak truth generally do : 
but these are trifles, Mr. Premium. What 1 I know money 
isn't to be bought without paying for't ! 

Sir O. Well — but what security could you give ? You 
have no land, I suppose ? 

Charles. Not a mole-hill, nor a twig, but what's in the 
bough-pots out of the window ! 

Sir O. Nor any stock, I presume ? 

Charles. Nothing but live-stock — and that's only a few 
pointers and ponies. But pray, Mr. Premium, are you 
acquainted at all with any of my connections ? 

Sir O. Why, to say truth, I am. 

Charles. Then you must know that I have a dev'lish rich 
uncle in the East Indies, Sir Oliver Surface, from whom I have 
the greatest expectations. 

Sir O. That you have a rich uncle I have heard ; but how 
your expectations will turn out is more, I believe, than you can 
tell. 

Charles. Oh, no ! — there can be no doubt. They tell me 
I'm a prodigious favorite, and that he talks of leaving me 
everything. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL $1 

Sir O. Indeed ! this is the first I've heard of it. 

Charles. Yes, yes, 'tis just so — Moses knows 'tis true, 
don't you, Moses ? 

Moses. I'll take my oath on it. 

Sir O. (aside). Egad, they'll persuade me presently I'm at 
Bengal. 

Charles. Now I propose, Mr. Premium, if it's agreeable to 
you, a post-obit on Sir Oliver's life : though at the same time 
the old fellow has been so liberal to me that I give you my 
word I should be sorry to hear anything had happened to him. 

(During following dialogue^ business for MosEs, up stage, 
taking inventory of silver on table.) 

Sir O. Not more than I should, I assure you. But the 
bond you mention happens to be just the worst security you 
could offer me — for I might live to a hundred and never see the 
principal. 

Charles. Oh, yes, you would ; the moment Sir Oliver 
dies, you know, you would come on me for the money. 

Sir O. Then I believe I should be the most unwelcome dun 
you ever had in your life. 

Charles. What ! I suppose you're afraid that Sir Oliver is 
too good a life ? 

Sir O. No, indeed, I am not ; though I have heard he is as 
hale and healthy as any man of his years in Christendom. 

Charles. There again, now, you are misinformed. No, 
no, the climate has hurt him considerably, poor Uncle Oliver ! 
Yes, yes, he breaks apace, I'm told — and is so much altered 
lately that his nearest relations would not know him ! 

Sir O. No ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! so much altered lately that his 
nearest relations would not know him ! Ha I ha ! ha ! egad — 
ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Charles. Ha ! ha ! — you're glad to hear that, little Pre- 
mium ? 

Sir O. No, no, I'm not. 

Charles. Yes, yes, you are — ha ! ha ! ha ! You know 
that mends your chance. 

Sir O. But I'm told Sir Oliver is coming over ; nay, some 
say he is actually arrived. 

Charles. Pshaw ! Sure I must know better than you 
whether he's come or not. No, no, rely on't, he's at this mo- 
ment at Calcutta — isn't he, Moses ? 



52 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Moses. Oh, yes, I'll take my oath of it. 

Sir O. Very true, as you say, you must know better than 
I, though I have it from pretty good authority — haven't I, 
Moses ? 

Moses {coming down r.). I'll take my oath of it. 

Sir O. But, sir, as I understand, you want a few hundreds 
immediately — is there nothing you could dispose of? 

Charles (c). How do you mean ? 

Sir O. For instance, now, I have heard that your father 
left behind him a great quantity of massy old plate ? 

Charles. O Lud ! — that's gone long ago. Moses can tell 
you how better than I can. 

Moses. I popped them into the crucible. 

{Goes up stage again. ^ 

Sir O. {aside'). Good lack ! all the family race-cups and 
corporation-bowls. {Aloud.) Then it was also supposed that 
his library was one of the most valuable and complete. 

Charles. Yes, yes, so it was — ^vastly too much so for a pri- 
vate gentleman. For my part, I was always of a communica- 
tive disposition, so I thought it a shame to keep so much 
knowledge to myself. {Crosses r.) 

Sir O. {crossing to c. ; aside). Mercy upon me ! Learn- 
ing that had run in the family like an heirloom ! {Aloud.) 
Pray, what are become of the books ? 

Charles (r.)- ^o^ must inquire of the auctioneer. Master 
Premium, for I don't believe even Moses can direct you. 

Moses {coming doivn l.). I know nothing of books, but the 
book of interest. 

Sir O. So, so, nothing of the family property left, I sup- 
pose ? 

Charles. Not much, indeed ; unless you have a mind to 
the family pictures. I have got a room full of ancestors above, 
and if you have a taste for old paintings, egad, j^ou shall have 
'em at a bargain. 

Sir O. Hey ! what the devil ! Sure you wouldn't sell your 
forefathers, would you ? 

Charles. Every man of them, to the best bidder. 

Sir O. What ! your great uncles and aunts. 

Charles. Ay, and my great grandfathers and grandmothers 
too. 

Sir O. {aside). Now I give him up. {Aloud.) What the 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 53 

plague, have you no bowels for your own kindred ? Odd's 
life, do you take me for Shylock in the play, that you would 
raise money of me on your own flesh and blood ? 

Charles. Nay, my little broker, don't be angry. What 
need you care if you have your money's worth? 

Sir O. Well, I'll be the purchaser; I think I can dispose 
of the family canvases. {Aside.') Oh, I'll never forgive him 
this ! never ! 

Enter Care., r. 2 e., with dice-box in his hand: 

Care, {extreme r. ). Come, Charles, what keeps you? 

Charles (r. c). I , can't come yet; I'faith, we are going 
to have a sale above stairs ; here's little Premium will buy all 
my ancestors. 

WARN curtain. 

Care. Oh, burn your ancestors. 

Charles. No, he may do that afterward, if he pleases. 
Stay, Careless, we want you ; egad, you shall be auctioneer ; 
so come along with us. 

Care, {coming down r.). Oh, have with you, if that's the 
case. I can handle a hammer as well as a dice-box ! Going ! 
going ! 

Sir O. {aside ^ at l. c). Oh, the profligates ! 

Charles. Come, Moses, you shall be appraiser, if we want 
one. Gad's life, little Premium, you don't seem to like the 
business ? 

Sir O. O yes, I do, vastly. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Yes, yes, I 
think it a rare joke to sell one's family by auction — ha ! ha ! 
{Aside.) O the prodigal ! 

Charles. To be sure ! when a man wants money, where 
the plague should he get assistance if he can't make free with 
his own relations ? 

Sir O. I'll never forgive him : never ! never ! 

RING quick curtain* 

Exeunt, r. 2 e., Charles a7id Care, laughing together y 
Sir O. shaking his heady and Moses rubbing his hands. 

CURTAIN 



54 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 



ACT IV 

Scene I. — Picture room in Charles's hotise. Large chair 
on L. 2 E. Family pedigree hanging up in the wingy r. 

Enter Charles, Sir O., Moses and Ca^re., l. i e. 

LIGHTS full up. 

Charles (crossing to r.). Walk in, gentlemen, pray walk 
in ; here they are, the family of the Surfaces, up to the Con- 
quest. 

Sir O. (^following to r. c). And, in my opinion, a goodly 
collection. 

*• Charles {viewing the pictures'). Ay, ay, these are done in 
the true spirit of portrait-painting ; no volontiere grace or ex- 
pression. Not like the works of your modern Raphaels, who 
give you the strongest resemblance yet contrive to make your 
portrait independent of you ; so that you may sink the original 
and not hurt the picture. No, no ; the merit of these is the 
inveterate likeness — all stiff and awkward as the originals, and 
like nothing in human nature besides. 

Sir O. Ah ! we shall never see such figures of men again. 

Charles. I hope not. Well, you see, Master Premium, 
what a domestic character I am ; here I sit of an evening sur- 
rounded by my family. But come, get to your pulpit, Mr. 
Auctioneer ; here's an old gouty chair of my grandfather's will 
answer the purpose. {^Brings chair forward, C.) 

Care, (ntounting chair). Ay, ay, this will do. But, Charles, 
I haven't a hammer; and what's an auctioneer without his 
hammer? 

Charles. Egad, that's true. {Takes pedigree down from 
R. I w.) What parchment have we here? Oh, our genealogy 
in full. Here, Careless, you shall have no common piece of 
mahogany; here's the family tree for you, you rogue — this 
shall be your hammer, and now you may knock down my 
ancestors with their own pedigree. (Gives it to Care.) 

Sir O. (crossing to l. c, aside). What an unnatural rogue ! 
— an ex post facto parricide ! 

Care. Yes, yes, here's a list of your generation, indeed; 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 55 

faith, Charles, this is the most convenient thing you could have 
found for the business, for 'twill not only serve as a hammer, 
but a catalogue into the bargain. {Rolls parchment up!) 
Come, begin. A-going, a-going, a-going ! 

Charles. Bravo, Careless ! Well {looking around room 
and beginning at r. wall), here's my great uncle, Sir Richard 
Raveline, a marvelous good general in his day, 1 assure you. 
He served in all the Duke of Marlborough's wars, and got that 
cut over his eye at the battle of Malplaquet. What say you, 
Mr. Premium ? Look at him — there's a hero, not cut out of 
his feathers, as your modern clipped captains are, but envel- 
oped in wig and regimentals, as a general should be. What 
do you bid ? 

Sir O. {aside to Moses, who remains at L. a little up stage). 
Bid him speak. 

Moses. Mr. Premium would hsiVQ you speak. 

Charles. Why, then, he shall have him for ten pounds, 
and I'm sure that's not dear for a staff-officer. 

Sir O. (aside). Heaven deliver me I His famous Uncle 
Richard for ten pounds ! {Aloud.) Very well, sir, I take him 
at that. 

Charles. Careless, knock down my Uncle Richard. Here, 
now, is a maiden sister of his, my great aunt Deborah, done 
by Kneller in his best manner, and esteemed a very formidable 
likeness. There she is, you see, a shepherdess feeding her 
flock. You shall have her for five pounds ten — the sheep are 
worth the money. 

Sir O. {aside). Ah ! poor Deborah ! a woman who set 
such a value on herself ! {Aloud.) Five pounds ten — she's 
mine. 

Charles. Knock down my Aunt Deborah, Careless ! 

Moses. The old woman and the little muttons five pounds 
ten shillings. 

Charles. This, now, is a grandfather of my mother's, a 
learned judge, well-known on the western circuit. What do 
you rate him at, Moses ? 

Moses. Four guineas. {Comes c.) 

Charles. Four guineas ! — Gad's life, you don't bid me 
the price of his wig. Mr. Premium, you have more respect 
for the woolsack ; do let us knock his lordship down at fifteen. 

Sir O. By all means. 

Charles. Knock down the judge. 

Care. Gone ! 



56 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

(Moses has by this time got directly in front of Care,, who, 
as the Jew makes notes in his book of the sale, knocks him 
on the head with the pedigree.') 

Moses. Do you take me for the judge? 
Care. You look more like the criminal. 

(Moses goes l.) 

Charles. And there are two brothers of his, William and 
Walter Blunt, Esquires, both members of Parliament, and 
noted speakers ; and what's very extraordinary, I believe this 
is the first time they were ever bought or sold. 

Sir O. That is very extraordinary, indeed ! I'll take them 
at your own price, for the honor of Parliament. 

Care. Well said, little Premium ! I'll knock them down 
at forty. 

Charles. Here's a jolly fellow — I don't know what rela- 
tion, but he was Mayor of Norwich ; take him at eight pounds. 

Sir O. No, no \ six will do for the mayor. 

Charles. Come, make it guineas, and I throw the two 
aldermen there into the bargain. 

Sir O. They're mine. 

Charles. Careless, knock down the mayor and the alder- 
men. But plague on't, we shall be all day retailing in this 
manner; do let us deal wholesale. What say you, little 
Premium ? Give me three hundred pounds, and take all that 
remains on each side in a lump. 

Care. Ay, ay, that will be the best way. 

{^Comes down from chair.') 

Sir O. Well, well, anything to accommodate you : — they 
are mine. But there is one portrait which you have always 
passed over. 

{^Crosses to c. Charles goes r. to picture of Sir O., dusts it 
affectionately with his handkerchief, and comes down R.) 

Care, {having put the chair away comes forward, L.). 
What, that ill -looking little fellow over the settee ? 

Sir O. (c). Yes, yes, I mean that, though I don't think 
him so ill-looking a little fellow by any means. 

Charles. What, that? (Care, goes up r. to picture.) 
Oh ! that's my Uncle Oliver ; 'twas done before he went to India. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL S7 

Care. Your Uncle Oliver ! Gad, then you'll never be 
friends, Charles. That now, to me, is as stern a looking rogue 
as ever I saw ; an unforgiving eye, and a damned disinheriting 
countenance ! an inveterate knave, depend on't. {^Comes 
down c.) Don't you think so, little Premium ? 

{Slaps him on the shoulder.') 

Sir O. {to Care.). Upon ray soul, sir, I do not; I think 
it as honest a looking face as any in the room, dead or alive. 
{To Charles.) But I suppose Uncle Oliver goes with the rest 
of the lumber ? 

Charles (r.). No, hang it; I'll not part with poor Noll. 
The old fellow has been very good tome, and, egad, I'll keep 
his picture while I've a room to put it in. {^Crosses l.) 

Sir O. {down r., aside). The rogue's my nephew, after 
all ! {Aloud.) But, sir, I have somehow taken a fancy to that 
picture. 

Charles (l.). I'm sorry for't, for you certainly will not 
have it. Oons, haven't you got enough of them ? 

Sir O. {aside). I forgive him everything ! {Aloud.) But, 
sir, when I take a whim in my head I don't value money. I'll 
give you as much for that as for all the rest. 

Charles. Don't tease me, master broker : I tell you I'll 
not part with it, and there's an end of it. 

Sir O. {aside). How like his father the dog is ! {Aloud.) 
Well, well, I have done. {Aside.) I did not perceive it be- 
fore, but I think I never saw such a resemblance. {Aloud.) 
Here is a draft for your sum. 

{Takes it out of his pocketbook. Goes to r. c.) 

Charles {coming c. and taking it). Why, 'tis for eight 
hundred pounds. 

Sir O. You will not let Sir Oliver go ? 

Charles. Zounds ! no ! — I tell you once more. 

Sir O. Then never mind the difference, we'll balance that 
another time — but give me your hand on the bargain. You 
are an honest fellow, Charles — I beg your pardon, sir, for being 
so free. Come, Moses. {Crosses y..) 

Charles (r.). Egad, this is a whimsical old fellow ! But 
hark'ee. Premium, you'll prepare lodgings for these gentlemen? 

Sir O. (l.). Yes, yes, I'll send for them in a day or two. 

Charles. But hold ; do now send a genteel conveyance for 



58 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

them, for I assure you they were most of them used to ride in 
their own carriages. 

Sir O I will, I will — for all but Oliver. 

Charles. Ay, all but the little nabob. 

Sir O. You're fixed on that? 

Charles. Peremptorily. 

Sir O. {aside). A dear extravagant rogue ! But he 
wouldn't sell my picture. {Aloud.') Good day ! — Come, 
Moses. {Aside.) Let me hear now who dares call him prof- 
ligate ! 

Exeunt Sir O. and Moses, l. i e. 

Care. (r.). Why, this is the oddest genius of the sort I 
ever met with. 

Charles (c). Egad, he's the prince of brokers, I think. 
I wonder how the devil Moses got acquainted with so honest a 
fellow. {Knock at x..) But hark ! here's Rowley ; do, Care- 
less, say I'll join the company in a few moments. 

Care. I will ; don't let that old blockhead persuade you to 
squander any of that money on old musty debts, or any such 
nonsense ; for tradesmen, Charles, are the most exorbitant 
fellows. 

Charles (l.). Very true, and paying them is only encour- 
aging them. Ay, ay, never fear. (Exit Care., r. i e.) 
So ! this was an odd fellow, indeed. Let me see — two-thirds 
of this, five hundred and thirty odd pounds, are mine by right. 
'Fore heaven ! I find one's ancestors are more valuable rela- 
tions than I took them for ! Ladies and gentlemen, your most 
obedient and very grateful servant. {Bows ceremoniously to 

READY change* 

the pictures and crosses c. Enter Row., l. i e.) Hah! old 
Rowley ! egad, you are just come in time to take leave of your 
old acquaintance. 

Row. (l.). Yes, I heard they were a-going. But I wonder 
you can have such spirits under so many distresses. 

Charles (c). Why, there's the point; my distresses are 
so many that I can't afford to part with my spirits ; but I shall 
be rich and splenetic all in good time. However, I suppose 
you are surprised that I am not sorrowful at parting with so 
many near relations ; to be sure 'tis very affecting, but you see 
they never move a muscle, so why should I ? 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 59 

Row. There's no making you serious a moment. 

Charles. Yes, faith, I am so now. Here, my honest Row- 
ley, here, get me this changed directly, and take a hundred 
pounds of it immediately to old Stanley. 

Row. A hundred pounds ! Consider only 

Charles. Gad's life, don't talk about it ; poor Stanley's 
wants are pressing, and if you don't make haste we shall have 
some one call that has a better right to the money. 

Row. Ah ! there's the point ! I never will cease dunning 
you with the old proverb 

Charles. ''Be just before you're generous." Why, sol 
would if I could ; but Justice is an old hobbling beldame, and 
I can't get her to keep pace with Generosity for the soul of me. 

Row. Yet, Charles, believe me, one hour's reflection 

Charles. Ay, ay, it's very true \ but hark'ee, Rowley, 
while 1 have, by heaven I'll give ; so damn your economy, and 
away to old Stanley with the money. 

Exeunt Charles, r. i e., Row., l. i e. 

CHANGE set* 



Scene II. — A saloon. Front set drop in first groove. 
Enter Moses and Sir O., r. i e. 

LIGHTS full «p- 

Moses (l.). Well, sir, I think, as Sir Peter said, you have 
seen Mr. Charles in high glory ; 'tis great pity he's so extrava- 
gant. 

Sir O. (c. )• But he would not sell my picture. 

Moses. And loves wine and women so much. 

Sir O. But he would not sell my picture. 

Moses. And he games so deep. 

Sir O. But he would not sell my picture. Oh, here's 
Rowley. 

Enter Row., r. i e. 

Row. (r.). So, Sir Oliver, I find you have made a pur- 
chase 

Sir O. Yes, yes, our young rake has parted with his an- 
cestors like old tapestry. 



6o THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Row. And here has he commissioned me to re-deliver you 
part of the purchase money — I mean, though, in your necessi- 
tous character of old Stanley. 

Moses (l. ). Ah ! there is the pity of all ; he is so damned 
charitable. 

Row. And I left a hosier and two tailors in the hall, who, 
I'm sure, won't be paid, and this hundred would satisfy them. 

Sir O. Well, well, I'll pay his debts, and his benevolence, 
too. But now I am no more a broker, and you shall introduce 
me to the elder brother as old Stanley. 

READY change^ 

Row. Not yet a while ; Sir Peter, I know, meant to call 
there about this time. 

Enter Trip, r. i e. 

Trip. Oh, gentlemen, I beg, pardon for not showing you 
out; this way. (^Crosses i..') Moses, a word. 

{Takes Moses by necktie and pulls him off, l. i e.) 

Exeunt Trip and Moses, l. i e. 

Sir O. (l.). There's a fellow for you — would you believe it, 
that puppy intercepted the Jew on our coming, and wanted to 
raise money before he got to his master. 

Row. (r.). Indeed ! 

Sir O. Yes, they are now planning an annuity business. 
Ah ! Master Rowley, in my days servants were content with 
the follies of their masters when they were worn a litde thread- 
bare ; but now they have their vices, like their birthday 
clothes, with the gloss on. 

Exeunt, l. i e. 

CHANGE set. 



Scene III. — Library at Joseph's. At r. Pembroke table with 
books. Chair stands at L. of it. Antique chairs at r. 
and L. Large window at back and before it — a little 
to R, — screen on front of which hangs map. 

READY knock. 
LIGHTS fwll «p. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 6l 

(Joseph and a Serv. discovered.) 

Joseph (c). No letter from Lady Teazle ? 

Serv. (l.). No, sir. 

Joseph. I am surprised she has not sent, if she is prevented 
from coming. Sir Peter certainly does not suspect me. Yet I 
hope I may not lose the heiress through the scrape I have 
drawn myself into with the wife \ however, Charles's imprudence 
and bad character are great points in my favor. 

KNOCK off L- 

{Knocking heard without L.) 

Serv. Sir, I believe that must be Lady Teazle. 

Joseph. Hold ! See whether it is or not before you go to 
the door : I have a particular message for you if it should be 
my brother. 

Serv. {looking from window up stage). 'Tis her ladyship, 
sir; she always leaves her chair at the milliner's in the next 
street. {Comes down l.) 

Joseph. Stay, stay; draw that screen before the window 
(Serv. does so), — that will do ; — my opposite neighbor is a lady 
of a curious temper. (Exit Serv., l. 2 e.) I have a difficult 
hand to play in this affair. Lady Teazle has lately suspected 
my views on Maria ; but she must by no means be let into the 
secret, — at least, till 1 have her more in my power. 

{Sits at table at k.') 

Enter Lady T., l. 2 y.., preceded by Serv., who stands aside y 

bowing at door. 

Lady T. (l. c). What, sentiment in soliloquy now ? 
Have you been very impatient ? O Lud ! don't pretend to 
look grave. I vow I couldn't come before. {^Crosses c.) 

Joseph (r.). Oh, madam, punctuality is a species of con- 
stancy very unfashionable in a lady of quality. 

{He beckons Serv. who places chairs ; Joseph sits after Lady 
T. is seated. Exit Serv., l. 2 e.) 

Lady T. (l.). Upon my word you ought to pity me. Do 
you know Sir Peter is grown so ill-natured to me of late, and so 
jealous of Charles too — that's the best of the story, isn't it ? 



62 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Joseph (aside), I am glad my scandalous friends keep that 
up. 

Lady T. I am sure I wish he would let Maria marry him, 
and then perhaps he would be convinced ; don't you, Mr. Sur- 
face ? 

]os^va (aside). Indeed I do not. (Aloud.) Oh, certainly 
I do ; for then my dear Lady Teazle would be also convinced 
how wrong her suspicions were of my having any design on the 
silly girl. 

Lady T. Well, well, I'm inclined to believe you. But 
isn't it provoking to have the most ill-natured things said of 
one ? And there's my friend Lady Sneerwell has circulated I 
don't know how many scandalous tales of me, and all without 
any foundation, too — that's what vexes me. 

Joseph. Ay, madam, to be sure, that is the provoking cir- 
cumstance — without foundation ; yes, yes, there's the mortifica- 
tion, indeed ; for when a scandalous tale is believed against one, 
there certainly is no comfort like the consciousness of having 
deserved it. 

Lady T. No, to be sure, then I'd forgive their malice ; but 
to attack me, who am really so innocent, and who never say an 
ill-natured thing of anybody — that is, of any friend ; and then 
Sir Peter, too, to have him so peevish, and so suspicious, when 
I know the integrity of my own heart — ^^indeed, 'tis monstrous I 

Joseph. But, my dear Lady Teazle, 'tis your own fault if 
you suffer it. When a husband entertains a groundless suspi- 
cion of his wife, and withdraws his confidence from her, the 
original compact is broken, and she owes it to the honor of her 
sex to endeavor to outwit him. 

Lady T. Indeed ! — so that if he suspects me without cause, 
it follows that the best way of curing his jealousy is to give him 
reason for't. 

Joseph. Undoubtedly — for your husband should never be 
deceived m you, — and in that case it becomes you to be frail in 
compliment to his discernment. 

Lady T. To be sure, what you say is very reasonable ; and 
when the consciousness of my innocence 

Joseph. Ah, my dear madam, there is the great mistake : 
'tis this very conscious innocence that is of the greatest prej- 
udice to you. What is it makes you negligent of forms, and 
careless of the world's opinion ? Why, the consciousness of 
your own innocence. What makes you thoughtless in your 
conduct, and apt to run into a thousand little imprudences? 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 63 

Why, the consciousness of your own innocence. What makes 
you impatient of Sir Peter's temper, and outrageous at his sus- 
picions ? Why, the consciousness of your innocence. 

Lady T. 'Tis very true ! 

Joseph. Now, my dear Lady Teazle, if you would but once 
make a trifling faux pas ^ you can't conceive how cautious you 
would grow, and how ready to humor and agree with your hus- 
band. 

Lady T. Do you think so ? 

Joseph. Oh ! I am sure on't ; and then you would find all 
scandal would cease at once ; for, in short, your character at 
present is like a person in a plethora, absolutely dying from too 
much health. 

Lady T. So, so ; then I perceive your prescription is that I 
must sin in my own defense, and part with my virtue to preserve 
my reputation. 

Joseph. Exactly so, upon my credit, ma'am. 

Lady T. Well, certainly this is the oddest doctrine, and 
the newest receipt for avoiding calumny ! 

Joseph. An infallible one, believe me. Prudence, like ex- 
perience, must be paid for. 

Lady T. Why, if my understanding were once con- 
vinced 

Joseph. Oh, certainly, madam, your understanding should 
be convinced. Yes, yes — heaven forbid I should persuade you 
to do anything you thought wrong. No, no, I have too much 
honor to desire it. 

Lady T. Don't you think we may as well leave honor out 
of the argument ? {Rises.') 

Joseph. Ah ! the ill effects of your country education, I see, 
still remain with you. {Rises.') 

Lady T. I doubt they do, indeed ; and I will fairly own to 
you that if I could be persuaded to do wrong, it would be by 
Sir Peter's ill-usage sooner than your honorable logic ^ after all. 

Joseph. Then, by this hand, which he is unworthy of 

{Taking her hand, is about to kneel when Serv. enters l. i e.) 
'Sdeath, you blockhead ; what do you want ? 

Serv. I beg your pardon, sir, but I thought you would not 
choose Sir Peter to come up without announcing him. 

Joseph. Sir Peter ! Oons — the devil ! 

Lady T. Sir Peter ! O Lud — I'm ruined — Pm ruined ! 

Serv. Sir, 'twasn't I let him in. 

Lady T. Oh I I'm quite undone ! What will become of 



64 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

me? Now, Mr. Logic Oh ! mercy, sir, he's on the stairs. 

I'll get behind here, and if ever I'm so imprudent again 

(^Goes behind screen.) 

Joseph (Jo Serv.). Give me that book. 

(Sits downy r. c. ; Serv. pretends to adjust his chair,) 

Enter Sir P., l. i e. 

Sir p. (aside, at door). Ay, ever improving himself. Mr. 
Surface, Mr. Surface. 

{Crosses and taps Joseph on the shoulder,) 

Joseph (starting up as if surprised). Oh ! my dear Sir 
Peter, I beg your pardon (gaping — throws book to Serv. 
who catches it) — I have been doling over a stupid book. Well, 
I am much obliged to you for this call. You haven't been 
here, I believe, since I fitted up this room. Books, you know, 
are the only things I am a coxcomb in. 

Sir p. (c, looking about). 'Tis very neat indeed. Well, 
well, that's proper. ( Walks up toward screen.) And you can 
even make your screen a source of knowledge — hung, I per- 
ceive, with maps ? 

Joseph (^following him). Oh, yes, I find great use in that 
screen. 

(Turns Sir Y,from the screen, and brings him down C.) 

Sir p. I dare say you must, certainly, when you want to 
find anything in a hurry. 

Joseph (aside). Aye, or to hide anything in a hurry, 
either. 

Sir p. Well, I have a little private business 

Joseph (to the Serv. who places chairs). You need not 
stay. (Exit Serv., l. i e.) Here's a chair. Sir Peter — I 
beg (Sir P. sits l. c, Joseph r. c.) 

Sir p. Well, now we are alone, there is a subject, my dear 
friend, on which I wish to unburden my mind to you — a point 
of the greatest moment to my peace ; in short, my good friend, 
Lady Teazle's conduct of late has made me very unhappy. 

Joseph. Indeed, I am very sorry to hear it. 

Sir p. Yes, 'tis but too plain she has not the least regard 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 65 

for me ; but what's worse, I have pretty good authority to sup- 
pose she has formed an attachment to another. 

Joseph. Indeed ! You astonish me ! 

Sir p. Yes; and, between ourselves, I think I've hit on 
the very man. {Lays his hand on Joseph's knee,) 

Joseph {starting). How? {Recovers himself,) You 
alarm me exceedingly. 

Sir p. Ay, my dear friend, I knew you would sympathize 
with me ! 

Joseph. Yes — believe me, Sir Peter, such a discovery would 
hurt me just as much as it would you. 

Sir p. I am convinced of it. Ah ! it is a happiness to have 
a friend whom we can trust even with one's family secrets. 
But have you no guess who I mean ? 

Joseph. I haven't the most distant idea. It can't be Sir 
Benjamin Backbite ? 

Sir p. Oh, no ! What say you to Charles ? 

Joseph. My brother ! Impossible ! 

Sir p. Oh ! my dear friend, the goodness of your own heart 
misleads you. You judge of others by yourself. 

Joseph. Certainly, Sir Peter, the heart that is conscious of 
its own integrity is ever slow to credit another's treachery. 

Sir p. True — but your brother has no sentiment — you 
never hear him talk so. 

Joseph. Yet I can't but think Lady Teazle herself has too 
much principle. 

Sir p. Ay, — but what is principle against the flattery of a 
handsome, lively young fellow ? 

Joseph. That's very true. 

Sir p. And then, you know, the difference of our ages 
makes it very improbable that she should have any very great 
affection for me ; and if she were to be frail, and I were to 
make it public, why the town would only laugh at me, the fool- 
ish old bachelor who had married a girl. 

Joseph. That's true, to be sure — they would laugh. 

Sir p. Laugh — ay, and make ballads, and paragraphs, and 
the devil knows what of me. 

Joseph. No, you must never make it public. 

Sir p. But then, that the nephew of my old friend. Sir 
Oliver, should be the person to attempt such a wrong, hurts me 
more nearly. 

Joseph. Ay, there's the point. When ingratitude barbs the 
dart of injury, the wound has double danger in it. 



66 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 



Sir p. Ay — I, that was, in a manner, left his guardian ; in 
whose house he has been so often entertained ; who never in my 
life denied him — any advice. 

Joseph. Oh, 'tis not to be credited. There may be a man 
capable of such baseness, to be sure ; but for my part till you 
can give me positive proofs, I cannot but doubt it. However, 
if it should be proved on him, he is no longer a brother of 
mine — I disclaim kindred with him : for the man who can 
break through the laws of hospitality and tempt the wife of his 
friend deserves to be branded as the pest of society. 

Sir p. What a difference there is between you ! What 
noble sentiments ! 

Joseph. Yet I cannot suspect Lady Teazle's honor. 

Sir p. I am sure I wish to think well of her, and to remove 
all ground of quarrel between us. She has lately reproached 
me more than once with having made no settlement on her : 
and, in our last quarrel, she almost hinted that she should not 
break her heart if I was dead. Now, as we seem to differ in 
our ideas of expense, I have resolved she shall have her own 
way, and be her own mistress in that respect, for the future ; 
and if I were to die she will find I have not been inattentive to 
her interest while living. Here, my friend, are the drafts of 
two deeds, which I wish to have your opinion on. By one, she 
will enjoy eight hundred a year independent while I live ; and, 
by the other, the bulk of my fortune after my death. 

(^Overcome with emotion draws out handkerchief and wipes 
tears from his eyes.) 

Joseph. This conduct. Sir Peter, is indeed truly generous. 
{Repeats Sir P.'s business with handkerchief, from behind 
which he says, aside.) I wish it may not corrupt my pupil. 

Sir p. Yes, I am determined she shall have no cause to 
complain, though I would not have her acquainted with the 
latter instance of my affection yet a while. 

Joseph. Nor I, if I could help it. 

Sir p. And now, my dear friend, if you please, we will talk 
over the situation of your hopes with Maria. 

Joseph {softly). Oh, no, Sir Peter; another time, if you 
please. 

Sir P. I am sensibly chagrined at the little progress you 
seem to make in her affections. 

Joseph. I beg you will not mention it, sir. What are my 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 6/ 

disappointments when your happiness is in debate ? (Aside.) 
'Sdeath ! I will be ruined every way. 

Sir p. And though you are so averse to my acquainting 
Lady Teazle with your passion, I'm sure she's not your enemy 
in the affair. 

Joseph. Pray, Sir Peter, now, oblige me. I am really too 
much affected by the subject we have been speaking of to be- 
stow a thought on my own concerns. The man who is 

intrusted with his friend's distresses can never (Enter 

Serv., l. I e.) Well, sir? 

Serv. Your brother, sir, is speaking to a gentleman in the 
street, and says he knows you are within. 

Joseph (rising). 'Sdeath, blockhead (crossing to Serv. 
at L.), I'm not within — I'm out for the day. 

Sir p. (rising and putting back chairs). Stay — hold — a 
thought has struck me ! You shall be at home. 

Joseph (crossing r.). Well, well, let him up. (Exit Serv., 
L. I E. Joseph, aside.) He'll interrupt Sir Peter, however. 

Sir p. Now, my good friend, oblige me, I entreat you. 
Before Charles comes, let me conceal myself somewhere — then 
do you tax him on the point we have been talking, and his 
answer may satisfy me at once. 

Joseph (l.). O fie, Sir Peter ! would you have me join in 
so mean a trick ? To trepan my brother, too ? 

Sir p. Nay, you tell me you are sure he is innocent ; if so, 
you do him the greatest service by giving him an opportunity 
to clear himself, and you will set my heart at rest. Come, you 
shall not refuse me: (going up) here, behind the screen will 

be (Joseph follows Sir P. quickly to screen and catches 

his coat-tail just in season to preve^it his goifig behind. They 
come down stage step by step loo ki fig each other in the face.) 
Hey ! what the devil ! there seems to be one listener here 
already; I'll swear I saw a petticoat. 

Joseph. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Well, this is ridiculous enough. 
I'll tell you. Sir Peter, though I hold a man of intrigue to be a 
most despicable character, yet, you know, it does not follow 
that one is to be an absolute Joseph, either ! Hark'ee, 'tis a 
little French milliner — a silly rogue that plagues me, — and 
having some character to lose, on your coming, sir, she ran 
behind the screen. 

Sir p. (slyly). Ah ! Joseph ! Joseph ! Did I ever think 

that you But, egad, she has overheard all I have been 

saying of my wife. 



68 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Joseph. Oh, 'twill never go further, you may depend upon 
it. She doesn't speak a word of English. 

Sir p. No ? then, faith, let her hear it out. Here's a 
closet will do as well. 

Joseph. Well, go in there. 

Sir p. Sly rogue ! sly rogue I (J^^oes into the closet ^ R.) 

Joseph (at c). A narrow escape, indeed j and a curious 
situation I'm in, to part man and wife in this manner. 

Lady T. (^peeping). Couldn't I steal off ? 

Joseph. Keep close, my angel ! 

(Ladv T. draws back.) 

Sir p. (^peeping out, r.). Joseph, tax him home. 
Joseph. Back, my dear friend ! 

(Sir p. closes door,') 

Lady T. Couldn't you lock Sir Peter in ? 
Joseph. Be still, my life ! 

(Lady T. withdraws.) 

Sir p. (^peeping). You're sure the little milliner won't blab? 
Joseph. In, in, my dear Sir Peter. 'Fore Gad, I wish I 
had a key to the door. 

(Sir p. closes door just as enter Charles, l. i e.) 

Charles. Holloa ! brother, what has been the matter ? 
Your fellow would not let me up at first. What ! have you 
had a Jew or a wench with you ? 

Joseph (r. c). Neither, brother, I assure you. 

Charles (l.). But what has made^Sir Peter steal off? I 
thought he had been with you. 

Joseph. He was, brother ; but hearing you were coming, 
he did not choose to stay. 

Charles (l. c). What? was the old gentleman afraid I 
wanted to borrow money of him ? 

Joseph. No, sir ; but I am sorry to find, Charles, that you 
have lately given that worthy man grounds for great uneasiness. 

Charles. Yes, they tell me I do that to a great many 
worthy men. But how so, pray ? 

Joseph. To be plain with you, brother, he thinks you are 
endeavoring to gain Lady Teazle's affections from him. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 69 

Charles. Who, I ? O Lud ! not I, upon my word. Ha ! 
ha ! ha ! ha ! So the old fellow has found out that he has got 
a young wife, has he ? And what's worse, has the lady found 
out that she's got an old husband ! 

Joseph. This is no subject to jest on, brother. He who 
can laugh 

Charles. True, true, as you were going to say ; then seri- 
ously, I never had the least idea of what you charge me with, 
upon my honor. 

Joseph. Well, it will give Sir Peter great satisfaction to 
hear this. 

Charles. To be sure, I once thought the lady seemed to 
have taken a fancy to me ; but, upon my soul, I never gave 
her the least encouragement : — besides, you know my attach- 
ment to Maria. 

Joseph. But sure, brother, even if Lady Teazle had be- 
trayed the fondest partiality for you 

Charles. Why, look'ee, Joseph, I hope I shall never 
deliberately do a dishonorable action ; but if a pretty woman 
was purposely to throw herself in my way, and that pretty 
woman married to a man old enough to be her father 

Joseph. Well 



Charles. Why, I believe I should be obliged to 

(Leans on Joseph's shoulder.) 

Joseph. What ? 

Charles {meekly). To borrow a little of your morality, 
that's all. But, brother, do you know now that you surprise 
me exceedingly by naming me with Lady Teazle ; for i' faith I 
always understood you were her favorite. 

Joseph. Oh, for shame, Charles ! This retort is foolish. 

Charles. Nay, I swear I have seen you exchange such 
significant glances 

Joseph. Nay, nay, sir, this is no jest. 

Charles. Egad, I'm serious. Don't you remember one 
day when I called here 

Joseph. Nay, prithee, Charles = 



{Puts his hand on Charles's mouth to stop him.) 

Charles {removing Joseph's hand). And found you to- 
gether 

Joseph. Zounds, sir ! I insist ^ 



70 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Charles. And another time, when your servant — 

Joseph. Brother, brother, a word with you ! (Aside,') 
Gad, I must stop him. 

Charles. Informed, I say, that 

Joseph. Hush ! I beg your pardon, but Sir Peter has heard 
all we have been saying. I knew you would clear yourself, or 
I should not have consented. 

Charles. How, Sir Peter ? Where is he ? 

Joseph. Softly ; there I {Points to the closet, r.) 

Charles. Oh, 'fore heaven, I'll have him out. Sir Peter, 
come forth ! {Tries to get to the closet.') 

Joseph. No, no {Prevents him.) 

Charles {throwing Joseph to l.). I say. Sir Peter, come 
into court. {Crosses r. ; pulls /;2 Sir P.) What! my old 
guardian ! What ! — turn inquisitor, and take evidence incog ? 
Oh, fie ! Oh, fie ! 

Sir p. (r. c). Give me your hand, Charles ; I believe I 
have suspected you wrongfully; but you mustn't be angry with 
Joseph — 'twas my plan ! 

Charles (c). Indeed ! 

Sir p. But I acquit you. I promise you I don't think near 
so ill of you as I did ; what I have heard has given me great 
satisfaction. 

Charles {apart to Joseph). Egad then, 'twas lucky you 
didn't hear any more; wasn't it, Joseph? 

Sir p. Ah ! you would have retorted on him. 

Charles. Ay, ay, that was a joke. 

Sir p. Yes, yes, I know his honor too well. 

Charles. But you might as well suspect him as me in this 
matter, for all that. {Apart to Joseph.) Mightn't he, Joseph ? 

Sir p. Well, well, I believe you. 

Joseph (l., aside). Would they were both out of the room ! 

Sir p. And in future, perhaps, we may not be such strangers. 

Enter Serv., l. i e. 

Serv. {aside to Joseph). Lady Sneer well is below, and says 
she will come up. 

Joseph {aside). Lady Sneerwell ! Gad's life ! she must not 

come here ! (Exit Serv., l. i e.) Gentlemen (Sir P. 

edges up toward screen.) Sir Peter ! {He comes down c, 
and Charles goes up to screen.) I beg pardon ; I must wait 
on you down-stairs. Charles ! (Charles leaves screen and 
comes down r.) Here is a person come on particular business. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 71 

Charles. Well, you can see him in another room. Sir 
Peter and 1 have not met for a long time, and 1 have something 
to say to him. 

Joseph {aside). They must not be left together. I'll send 
Lady Sneer well away, and return directly. {Apart to Sir P., 
who is again up near the screen. This business may be con- 
tinued as lofig as the audience will respond to it.^ Sir Peter, 
not a word of the French milliner. 

Sir p. {crossing, and apart to Joseph). I ! Not for the 
world ! (Exit Joseph, l. i e. Sir P. returns l. c, to 
Charles.) Ah ! Charles, if you associated more with your 
brother, one might indeed hope for your reformation. He is a 
man of sentiment. Well, there is nothing in the world so noble 
as a man of sentiment. 

Charles (r. c). Pshaw ! he is too moral by half, and so 
apprehensive of his good name, as he calls it, that he would as 
soon let a priest into his house as a wench. 

Sir p. No, no. Come, come, you wrong him. No, no ! 
Joseph is no rake, but he is no such saint either, in that respect. 
{Aside.) I have a great mind to tell him — we should have 
such a laugh at Joseph. 

Charles. Oh, hang him ! He's a very anchorite, a young 
hermit. 

Sir p. Hark'ee — you must not abuse him ; he may chance 
to hear of it again, I promise you. 

Charles. Why, you won't tell him ? 

Sir P. No — but — this way. {Aside.) Egad, P 11 tell him. 
{Aloud.) Hark'ee — have you a mind to have a good laugh at 
Joseph ? 

Charles. I should like it of all things. 

Sir P. {aside). Then damn me if I don't tell him. {Aloud.) 
Then i' faith, we will — Pll be quit with him for discovering me. 
{Brings Charles down stage.) He had a girl with him when 
I called. 

Charles. What ! Joseph ? You jest. 

Sir p. Hush ! — a little French milliner — she doesn't speak 
a word of English — and the best of the jest is, she's in the room 
now. 

Charles. The devil she is ! {Looks at closet.) 

Sir p. Hush ! I tell you ! [Points to screen.) 

Charles. Behind the screen ! 'Slife, let's unvail her, 

{Up stage.) 



72 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Sir p. {trying to prevent him). No, no — he's coming ; you 
shan't, indeed ! 

Charles. Oh, egad, we'll have a peep at the little milliner. 

{Endeavors to get toward screen^ Sir P. preventing.) 

Sir p. Not for the world ; Joseph will never forgive me 

Charles. I'll stand by you 

{Thrusts Sir P. to r., and rushes to screen.) 

Sir p. Odds, here he is ! 

Enter Joseph, l. i e.. Just as Charles throws down the 

screen. 

Charles (l. c). Lady Teazle ! by all that's wonderful ! 

Joseph (l.). Lady Teazle ! by all that's horrible ! 

Sir p. (r.)« Lady Teazle ! by all that's damnable ! 

Charles. Sir Peter, this is one of the smartest French 
milliners I ever saw. Egad, you seem all to have been divert- 
ing yourselves here at hide and seek, and I don't see who is 
out of the secret. Shall I beg your ladyship to inform me ? 
Not a word ! I beg your pardon, you don't speak a word of 
English. Brother, will you be pleased to explain this matter ? 
What ! is Morality dumb, too ! Sir Peter, though I found you 
in the dark, perhaps you are not so now ! All mute ! Well, 
though I can make nothing of the affair, I suppose you per- 
fectly understand one another — so I'll leave you to yourselves. 
{Going.) Brother {mimicking 'ios^va), I'm sorry to find you 
have given that worthy man grounds for so much uneasiness. 
Sir Peter ! there's nothing in the world so noble as a man of 
sentiment. 

Exit, L. I E. They stand for some time looking at each 

other. 

Joseph (l.). Sir Peter — notwithstanding — I confess — that 
appearances are against me — if you will afford me your patience 
— I make no doubt — but I shall explain everything to your sat- 
isfaction. 

Sir p. (r.). If you please, sir. 

Joseph. The fact is, sir, that Lady Teazle, knowing my 
pretensions to your ward, Maria — I say, sir, Lady Teazle, being 
apprehensive of the jealousy of your temper — and knowing my 
friendship to the family — she, sir, I say, — called here — in order 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 73 

that — I might explain these pretensions — but on your 
coming — being apprehensive — and hearing your carriage coming 
up the stairs — as I said — of your jealousy — she withdrew — and 
this, you may depend on it, is a clear account of the matter. 

Sir p. a very clear account, upon my word ; and I dare 
swear the lady will vouch for every article of it. 

Lady T. {coming forward^ c). For not one word of it, Sir 
Peter ! 

Sir p. How ! don't you think it worth while to agree in 
the lie ! 

Lady T. There is not one syllable of truth in what that 
gentleman has told you. 

Sir p. I believe you, upon my soul, ma'am ! 

Joseph {aside). 'Sdeath, madam, will you betray me? 

Lady T. Good Mr. Hypocrite, by your leave, I'll speak for. 
myself. 

Sir p. Ay, let her alone, sir ; you'll find she'll make out a 
better story than you, without prompting. 

Lady T. Hear me, Sir Peter ! I came hither on no matter 
relating to your ward, and even ignorant of the gentleman's 
pretensions to her. But I came seduced by his insidious argu- 
ments, at least to listen to his pretended passion, if not to sac- 
rifice your honor to his baseness. 

WARN curtain* 

Sir p. Now, I believe, the truth is coming, indeed. 

Joseph. The woman's mad ! 

Lady T. No, sir, she has recovered her senses, and your 
own arts have furnished her with the means. Sir Peter, I do 
not expect you to credit me, but the tenderness you expressed 
for me, when I am sure you could not think I was a witness to 
it, has so penetrated to my heart that had I left the place with- 
out the shame of this discovery, my future life should have 
spoken the sincerity of my gratitude. {^Crosses to 'L.') As for 
that smooth-tongued hypocrite, who would have seduced the 
wife of his too credulous friend, while he affected honorable ad- 
dresses to his ward — I behold him now in a light so truly des- 
picable that I shall never again respect myself for having lis- 
tened to him. 

Exit, L. I E. 

Joseph. Notwithstanding all this, Sir Peter, Heaven 
knows 



74 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Sir p. (crossing I..). That you are a villain ! and so Heave 
you to your conscience. 

Joseph. You are too rash, Sir Peter ; you shall hear me. 
The man who shuts out conviction by refusing to 

Sir p. Oh, damn your sentiments ! 

RING quick curtain* 
Exit Sir P., l. i ■£.., followed by Joseph, talking, 

CURTAIN 



ACT V 

Scene I. — The Library. 

{Discovered Joseph and Serv.) 

LIGHTS full up- 

Joseph (l.). Mr. Stanley I — and why should you think I 
would see him ? You must know he comes to ask something. 

Serv. (r.). Sir, I should not have let him in, but that Mr. 
Rowley came to the door with him. 

Joseph. Pshaw ! blockhead ! to suppose that I should now 
be in a temper to receive visits from poor relations ! Well, 
why don't you show the fellow up ? 

Serv. I will, sir. Why, sir, it was not my fault that Sir 
Peter discovered my lady 

Joseph. Go, fool ! (Exit Serv., l.) Sure Fortune never 
played a man of my policy such a trick before. My character 
with Sir Peter, my hopes with Maria, destroyed in a moment ! 
I'm in a rare humor to listen to other people's distresses ! I 
shan't be able to bestow even a benevolent sentiment on 
Stanley. So, here he comes, and Rowley with him. I must 
try to recover myself, and put a little charity into my face, 
however. 

Exit, R. I e. 

Enter Sir O. and Row., l. i e. 

Sir O. What ! does he avoid us ! That was he, was it 
not? 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 75 

Row. It was, sir. But I doubt you are come a little too 
abruptly. His nerves are so weak that the sight of a poor re- 
lation may be too much for him. I should have gone first to 
break it to him. 

Sir O. (r.). Oh, plague of his nerves ! Yet this is he 
whom Sir Peter extols as a man of the most benevolent way of 
thinking ! 

Row. (l.). As to his way of thinking, I cannot pretend to 
decide; for, to do him justice, he appears to have as much 
speculative benevolence as any private gentleman in the king- 
dom, though he is seldom so sensual as to indulge himself in 
the exercise of it. 

Sir O. Yet he has a string of charitable sentiments, I sup- 
pose, at his fingers' ends. 

Row. Or rather, at his tongue's end. Sir Oliver ; for I be- 
lieve there is no sentiment he has such faith in as that " Charity 
begins at home." 

Sir O. And his, I presume, is of that domestic sort which 
never stirs abroad at all. 

Row. I doubt you'll find it so; — but he's coming. I 
mustn't seem to interrupt you ; and you know immediately as 
you leave him I come in to announce your arrival in your real 
character. 

Sir O. True ; and afterward you'll meet me at Sir Peter's. 

Row. Without losing a moment. 

Exit, L. I E. 

Sir O. I don't like the complaisance of his features. 
Enter Joseph, r. i e. 

Joseph (r.). Sir, I beg you ten thousand pardons for keep- 
ing you a moment waiting — Mr. Stanley, I presume. 

Sir O. (l.). At your service. 

Joseph. Sir, I beg you will do me the honor to sit down — 
I entreat you, sir ! 

{Places chair for Sir O. at l. c, and sits himself by table at r.) 

Sir O. Dear sir — there's no occasion. {Aside.') Too civil 
by half ! 

Joseph. I have not the pleasure of knowing you, Mr. 
Stanley ; but I am extremely happy to see you look so well. 
You were nearly related to my mother, Mr. Stanley, I think ? 

Sir O. I was, sir ; — so nearly that my present poverty, I 



76 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

fear, may do discredit to her wealthy children, else I should 
not have presumed to trouble you. 

Joseph. Dear sir, there needs no apology : — he that is in 
distress, though a stranger, has a right to claim kindred with the 
wealthy. I am sure I wish I was one of that class, and had it 
in my power to offer you even a small relief. 

Sir O. If your uncle, Sir Oliver, were here, I should have 
a friend. 

Joseph. I wish he was, sir, with all my heart : you should 
not want an advocate with him, believe me, sir. 

Sir O. I should not need one — my distresses would recom- 
mend me. But I imagined his bounty would enable you to be- 
come the agent of his charity. 

Joseph. My dear sir, you were strangely misinformed. Sir 
Oliver is a worthy man, a very worthy man ; but avarice, Mr. 
Stanley, is the vice of age. I will tell you, my good sir, in 
confidence, what he has done for me has been a mere nothing ', 
though people, I know, have thought otherwise ; and, for my 
part, I never chose to contradict the report. 

Sir O. What ! has he never transmitted you bullion — 
rupees — pagodas ? 

Joseph. Oh, dear sir, nothing of the kind. No, no — a few 
presents now and then — china, shawls, congou tea, avadavats, 
and Indian crackers — little more, believe me. 

Sir O. {aside). Here's gratitude for twelve thousand 
pounds I — Avadavats and Indian crackers ! 

Joseph. Then, my dear sir, you have heard, I doubt not, 
of the extravagance of my brother : there are few would credit 
what I have done for that unfortunate young man. 

Sir O. {aside). Not I, for one ! 

Joseph. The sums that I have lent him I Indeed, I have 
been exceedingly to blame ; it was an amiable weakness ; how- 
ever, 1 don't pretend to defend it, — and now I feel it doubly 
culpable, since it has deprived me of the pleasure of serving 
you, Mr. Stanley, as my heart dictates. 

Sir O. (aside). Dissembler I {Aloud.) Then, sir, you 
can't assist me? {Rises and crosses to l.) 

]os^VB. {rising and crossing down R.). At present, it grieves 
me to say, I cannot ; but whenever I have the ability you may 
depend upon hearing from me. 

Sir O. I am extremely sorry 

Joseph. Not more than I, believe me; — to pity without the 
power to relieve is still more painful than to ask and be denied. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 77 

Sir O. Kind sir, your most obedient humble servant. 

Joseph. You leave me deeply affected, Mr. Stanley. 
(^Calls off L.) William, be ready to open the door. 

Sir O. Oh, dear sir, no ceremony. 

Joseph. Your very obedient. 

Sir O. Sir, your most obsequious. 

Joseph. You may depend upon hearing from me, whenever 
I can be of service. 

Sir O. Sweet sir, you are too good ! 

Joseph. In the meantime, I wish you health and spirits. 

Sir O. Your ever grateful and perpetual humble servant. 

Joseph. Sir, yours as sincerely. 

Sir O. (aside). Now I am satisfied ! Charles, you are my 
heir I 

Exit, L. I E. 

Joseph. This is one bad effect of a good character ; it in- 
vites application from the unfortunate, and there needs no small 
degree of address to gain the reputation of benevolence without 
incurring the expense. The silver ore of pure charity is an ex- 
pensive article in the catalogue of a man's good qualities ; 
whereas the sentimental French plate I use instead of it makes 
just as good a show, and pays no tax. 

Enter Row., l, i e. 

Row. (l.). Mr. Surface, your servant. I was apprehensive 
of interrupting you, though my business demands immediate 
attention, as this note will inform you. 

Joseph (r.). Always happy to see Mr. Rowley. {Aside J) 
A rascal ! (Reads the letter ,) Sir Oliver Surface I My uncle 
arrived ! 

Row. He is, indeed : we have just parted with him — quite 
well, after a speedy voyage, and impatient to embrace his 
worthy nephew. 

Joseph. I am astonished! {Calls off i.,) William, stop 
Mr. Stanley, if he's not gone. 

READY change^ 

Row. Oh ! he's out of reach, I believe. 

Joseph. Why did you not let me know this when you came 
in together? 

Row. I thought you had particular business ; but I must be 
gone to inform your brother, and appoint him here to meet 
your uncle. He will be with you in a quarter of an hour. 



78 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Joseph. So he says. Well, I am strangely overjoyed at his 
coming. (Aside.') Never, to be sure, was anything so damned » 
unlucky. i 

Row. You will be delighted to see how well he looks. » 

Joseph. Oh ! I am overjoyed to hear it {aside) — just 
at this time. 

Row. I'll tell him how impatiently you expect him. 

Exit, L. I E. 

Joseph. Do, do ; pray give my best duty and affection. 
Indeed, I cannot express the sensations I feel at the thought of 
seeing him. (Exit Row., l. i e.) Certainly his coming just 
at this time is the cruellest piece of ill-fortune ! 

Exit, R. I E. 

CHANGE set. 



Scene II. — A room in Sir P.'s house. 

{Discovered Ms.^, C.) 

LIGHTS full up. 

Mrs. C. Dear heart, how provoking ! I'm not mistress of 
half the circumstances ! We shall have the whole affair in the 
newspapers, with the names of the parties at length, before I 
have dropped the story at a dozen houses. (Enter Sir B., l. 
I E.) Oh, dear Sir Benjamin ! you have heard, I suppose 

Sir B. (l.). Of Lady Teazle and Mr. Surface 

Mrs. C. (r.). And Sir Peter's discovery 

Sir B. Oh ! the strangest piece of business, to be sure ! 

Mrs. C. Well, I never was so surprised in my life. I am 
sorry for all parties, indeed. 

Sir B. Now I don't pity Sir Peter at all ; he was so extrav- 
agantly partial to Mr. Surface. 

Mrs. C. Mr. Surface ! Why, 'twas with Charles Lady 
Teazle was detected. 

Sir B. No such thing, I tell you — Mr. Surface is the gal- 
lant. 

Mrs. C. No, no, Charles is the man. 'Twas Mr. Surface 
brought Sir Peter on purpose to discover them. 

Sir B. I tell you I had it from one 

Mrs. C. And I have it from one 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 79 

Sir B. Who had it from one, who had it 



Mrs. C. From one immediately — but here comes Lady 
Sneerwell ; perhaps she knows the whole affair. 

(^Crosses c. Sir B. crosses to r.) 

Enter Lady S., l. i e. 

Lady S. (l.). So, my dear Mrs. Candour, here's a sad af- 
fair of our friend Teazle. 

Mrs. C. (c). Ay, my dear friend, who would have 
thought 

Lady S. Well, there is no trusting appearances ; though, 
indeed, she was always too lively for me. 

Mrs. C. To be sure, her manners were a little too free ; 
but then she was so young I 

Lady S. And had, indeed, some good qualities. 

Mrs. C. So she had, indeed. But have you heard the 
particulars ? 

Lady S. No ; but everybody says that Mr. Surface 

Sir B. (r.). Ay, there ; I told you Mr. Surface was the 
man. 

Mrs. C. No, no : — indeed the assignation was with Charles. 

Lady S. With Charles ! You alarm me, Mrs. Candour. 

Mrs. C. Yes, yes, he was the lover. Mr. Surface, to do 
him justice, was only the informer. 

Sir B. Well, I'll not dispute with you, Mrs. Candour ; but 
be it which it may, I hope that Sir Peter's wound will not 

Mrs. C. Sir Peter's wound ! Oh, mercy ! I didn't hear 
a word of their fighting. 

Lady S. Nor I, a syllable. 

Sir B. No I what, no mention of the duel ? 

(^Crosses c. Mrs. C. crosses to r.) 

Mrs. C. (r. ). Not a word. 

Sir B. (c). Oh, yes; they fought before they left the room. 

Lady S. (l.). Pray, let us hear. 

Mrs. C. Ay, do oblige us with the duel. 

Sir B. "Sir," says Sir Peter, immediately after the dis- 
covery, '< you are a most ungrateful fellow." 

Mrs. C, Ay, to Charles 

Sir B. No, no, no — to Mr. Surface — '' a most ungrateful 
fellow; and old as I am, sir," says he, "I insist on immediate 
satisfaction." 



8o THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Mrs. C. Ay, that must have been to Charles; for 'tis very 
unlikely Mr. Surface would fight in his own house. 

Sir B. Gad's life, ma'am, not at all — "giving me imme- 
diate satisfaction." On this, ma'am. Lady Teazle, seeing Sir 
Peter in such danger, ran out of the room in strong hysterics, 
and Charles after her, calling out for hartshorn and water; 
then, madam, they began to fight with swords 

Enter Crab., l. i e. ; crosses l. c. 

Crab. (l. c). With pistols, nephew — pistols; I have it 
from undoubted authority. 

Mrs. C. {crossing to Crab.). Oh, Mr. Crabtree, then it is 
all true ! 

Crab. Too true, indeed, madam, and Sir Peter is danger- 
ously wounded 

Sir B. (r.). By a thrust in segoofi quite through his left 
side 

Crab. By a bullet lodged in 'the thorax. 

Mrs. C. Mercy on me ! Poor Sir Peter ! 

Crab. Yes, madam ; though Charles would have avoided 
the matter if he could. 

Mrs. C. I told you who it was ; I knew Charles was the 
person. 

Sir B. My uncle, I see, knows nothing of the matter. 

Crab. But Sir Peter taxed him with the basest ingratitude. 

Sir B. That I told you, you know 

Crab. Do, nephew, let me speak ! — and insisted on imme- 
diate 

Sir B. Satisfaction ! Just as I said 

Crab. Odd's life, nephew, allow others to know some- 
thing, too ! A pair of pistols lay on the bureau (for Mr. Sur- 
face, it seems, had come home the night before late from 
Salthill, where he had been to see the Montem with a friend, 
who has a son at Eton), so unluckily the pistols were left 
charged. 

Sir B. I heard nothing of this. 

Crab. Sir Peter forced Charles to take one ; and they fired, 
it seems, pretty nearly together. Charles's shot took effect, as 
I tell you, and Sir Peter's missed ; but, what is very extraordi- 
nary, the ball struck against a little bronze Shakspeare that 
stood over the fireplace, grazed out of the window at a rigl^t 
angle, and wounded the postman, who was just coming to the 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 8l 

door with a double letter from Northamptonshire. But whether 
or not the letter was postpaid I am quite unable to tell. 

Sir B. My uncle's account is more circumstantial, I con- 
fess ; but I believe mine is the only true one, for all that. 

Lady S. (aside). I am more interested in this affair than 
they imagine, and must have better information. 

Exit, L. I E. 

Sir B. Ah ! Lady Sneerwell's alarm is very easily ac- 
counted for. 

Crab. Yes, yes, they certainly do say 

All. What ? 

Crab. But that's neither here nor there. 

Mrs. C. But, pray, where is Sir Peter at present ? 

Crab. Oh ! they brought him home, and he is now in the 
house, though the servants are ordered to deny him. 

Mrs. C. I believe so, and Lady Teazle, I suppose, attend- 
ing him. 

Crab. Yes, yes; and I saw one of the faculty enter just 
before me. 

Sir B. Hey ! who comes here ? 

{Goes to door at l. and stands there as Sir O. enters.) 

Crab. Oh, this is he ; the physician, depend on't. 
Mrs. C. Oh, certainly! it must be the physician; and 
now we shall know. 

Enter Sir O., l. i e. Sir B., Crab, and Mrs. C. all fol- 
low him down stage and get about him. 

Crab. (r. c). Well, doctor, what hopes ? 

Mrs. C. (r.). Ay, doctor, how's your patient? 

Sir B. Now, doctor, isn't it a wound with a small-sword? 

(JJomes down on Sir O.'s l.) 

CijiAB. A bullet lodged in the thorax, for a hundred. 

Sir O. Doctor ! a wound with a small-sword ! and a bullet 
in the thorax ! Oons ! are you mad, good people ? 

Sir B. (l.). Perhaps, sir, you are not a doctor? 

Sir O. (c). Truly, I am to thank you for my degree if 
I am. 

Crab. Only a friend of Sir Peter's, then, I presume. But, 
sir, you must have heard of his accident ? 



82 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Sir O. Not a word ! 

Crab. Not of his being dangerously wounded ? 

Sir O. The devil he is ! 

Sir B. Run through the body 

Crab. Shot in the breast 



Sir B. By one Mr. Surface 

Crab. Ay, the younger. 

Sir O. Hey ! what the plague ! you seem to differ strangely 
in your accounts : however, you agree ;that Sir Peter is danger- 
ously wounded. 

Sir B. Oh, yes, we agree in that. 

(^Crosses behind to extreme R., Mrs. C. moving up stage a 

little.) 

Crab. Yes, yes, I believe there can be no doubt of that. 

Sir O. Then, upon my word, for a person in that situation, 
he is the most imprudent man alive; for here he comes, walk- 
ing as if nothing at all was the matter. (Enter Sir P., l. i e.) 
Odd's heart, Sir Peter, you are come in good time, I promise 
you ; for we had just given you over. 

Sir B. (r.). Egad, uncle, this is the most sudden recovery ! 

Sir O. (l. c). Why, man, what do you out of bed with a 
small-sword through your body, and a bullet lodged in your 
thorax ? 

Sir p. (l.). A small-sword, and a bullet ! 

Sir O. Ay, these gentlemen would have killed you without 
law or physic, and wanted to dub me doctor, to make me an 
accomplice. 

Sir p. Why, what is all this ? (^Crosses to r. c.) 

Sir B. {extreme l.). We rejoice, Sir Peter, that the story 
of the duel is not true {crossing to c.) and are sincerely sorry 
for your other misfortune. 

{Describing a circle he moves up stage a little to R. of his 

former positioti.) 

Sir p. {aside). So, so ! all over town already. 
Crab. (l.). Though, Sir Peter, you are certainly vastly to 
blame {moving to c.) to marry at your years. 

{Bowing to Sir P., repeats Sir B.'s maneuver and rests a little 

to R. of him.) 

Sir P. Sir ! What business is that of yours? 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 83 

Mrs. C. (l. c). Though, indeed, as Sir Peter {coming 
to c.) made so good a husband he's much to be pitied. 

{Repeats maneuver of Sir B. and Crab., and rests at r. of 

Crab.) 

Sir p. a plague on your pity. 

Sir B. {advancing to c). However, Sir Peter, you must 
not mind the laughing and jests you will meet with on the 
occasion. 

{Repeats former business and rests a little further up stage 
and a trifle to L. of his former position.) 

Sir p. I desire to be master in my own house. 
Crab, {advancing to c). 'Tis no uncommon case. 

{Up stage to R. ^SiR B.) 

Sir p. I insist on being left to myself; without ceremony I 
insist on your leaving my house directly ! 

Mrs. C. {advancing to c. ). Well, well, we are going, and 
depend on't we'll make the best report of it we can. 

( Up stage to R. of Crab.) 

Sir p. Leave my house ! 

Crab. And tell how hardly you've been treated 

Sir p. Leave my house ! 

Sir B. And how patiently you bear it. 

Exeunt Mrs. C, Crab, andSiK B., l. i e. 

Sir p. Leave my house ! Fiends ! vipers ! furies ! Oh ! 
that their own venom would choke them ! {Crosses l.) 
Sir O. They are very provoking, indeed, Sir Peter. 

Enter Row., l. i e. 

Row. (l.). I heard high words ; what has ruffled you, sir ? 

Sir p. (c). Pshaw! what signifies asking? Do I ever 
pass a day without vexations ? 

Row. Well, I'm not inquisitive. 

Sir O. (r.). Well, I am not inquisitive; I come only to 
tell you that I have seen both my nephews in the manner we 
proposed. 



84 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Sir p. a precious couple they are ! 

Row. Yes, and Sir Oliver is convinced that your judgment 
was right, Sir Peter. 

Sir O. Yes, I find Joseph is indeed the man, after all. 

Row. Ay, as Sir Peter says, he is a man of sentiment. 

Sir O. And acts up to the sentiments he professes. 

Row. It certainly is edification to hear him talk. 

Sir O. Oh, he's a model for the young men of the age ! 
But how's this. Sir Peter; you don't join us in your friend 
Joseph's praise, as I expected ? 

Sir p. Sir Oliver, we live in a damned wicked world, and 
the fewer we praise the better. 

Row. What ! do you say so, Sir Peter, who were never 
mistaken in your life ? 

Sir p. Pshaw ! Plague on you both ! I see by your sneer- 
ing you have heard the whole affair. I shall go mad among 
you ! 

Row. Then, to fret you no longer. Sir Peter, we are indeed 
acquainted with it all. I met Lady Teazle coming from Mr. 
Surface's, so humble that she deigned to request me to be her 
advocate with you. 

Sir p. And does Sir Oliver know all this ? 

Sir O. Every circumstance. 

Sir p. What, of the closet and the screen, hey ? 

Sir O. Yes, yes ; and the little French milliner that couldn't 
speak a word of English. Oh, I have been vastly diverted with 
the story ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Sir p. 'Twas very pleasant. 

Sir O. I never laughed more in my life, I assure you. Ha I 
ha! ha! 

Sir p. Oh, vastly diverting ! Ha ! ha ! ha I 

Row. To be sure, Joseph with his sentiments. Ha ! ha ! 

Sir p. ' Yes, yes ; his sentiments ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! Hypo- 
critical villain ! 

Sir O. Ay, and that rogue Charles, to pull Sir Peter out of 
the closet ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Sir p. Ha I ha ! 'Twas devilish entertaining, to be sure. 

Sir O. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Egad, Sir Peter, I should hke to 
have seeh j our face when the screen was thrown down ! Ha ! 
ha! ha! 

Sir p. Yes, yes ; my face when the screen was thrown 
down ! That was worth seeing. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Oh, I must 
never show my head again ! 



1 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 85 

Sir O. But come, come ; it isn't fair to laugh at you, 
neither, my old friend; though, upon my soul, I can't help it. 

Sir p. Oh, pray don't restrain your mirth on my account; 
it does not hurt me at all. I laugh at the whole affair myself. 
Yes, yes, I think being a standing joke for all one's acquaint- 
ance a very happy situation. Oh, yes ; and then, of a morn- 
ing, to read the paragraph about Mr. S , Lady T , and 

Sir P , will be so entertaining ! I shall certainly leave town 

to-morrow, and neverHook mankind in the face again. 

(^Crosses to l.) , 

Row. (crossing to c). Without affectation, Sir Peter, you 
may despise the ridicule of fools. {Looks off v^.) But I see 
Lady Teazle going toward the next room ; I am sure you must 
desire a reconciliation as earnestly as she does. 

(Crosses to l., and Sir P. returns to c.) 

Sir O. Perhaps my being here prevents her coming to you. 
(^Crosses up l.) Well, I'll leave honest Rowley to mediate be- 
tween you ; but he must bring you all presently to Mr. Sur- 
face's, where I am now returning, if not to reclaim a libertine 
at least to expose hypocrisy. 

Sir p. Ah, I'll be present at your discovering yourself 
there (exit, l. i e., Sir O.) with all my heart; though 'tis a 
vile unlucky place for discoveries. {Looks off r.) She is not 
coming here, you see, Rowley. 

Row. No, but she has left the door of that room open, you 
perceive. See, she is in tears. 

WARN change. 

Sir p. Certainly,^ a little mortification appears very becom- 
ing in a wife. Don't you think it will do her good to let her 
pine a little ? 

Row. Oh, this is ungenerous in you ! 

Sir p. Well, I know not what to think. You remember 
the letter I found of hers, evidently intended for Charles ? 

Row. A mere forgery, Sir Peter, laid in your way on pur- 
pose. This is one of the points which I intend Snake shall give 
you conviction of. 

Sir p. I wish I were once satisfied of that. She looks this 
way. What a remarkably elegant turn of the head she has ! 
Rowley, I'll go to her. 



86 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Row. Certainly. 

Sir p. Though when it is known that we are reconciled, 
people will laugh at me ten times more. 

Row. Let them laugh, and retort their malice only by show- 
ing them you are happy in spite of it. 

Sir p. I'faith, so I will ! {iip r.) and, if I'm not mistaken, 
we may yet be the happiest couple in the country. 

Row. Nay, Sir Peter, he who once lays aside suspicion 

Sir p. Hold, Master Rowley ! If you have any regard for 
me, never let me hear you utter anything like a sentiment ; I 
have had enough of them to serve me the rest of my life. 

Exeunt, r. 2 e. 

CHANGE set 



Scene III. — The library in Joseph's house. 
Enter Lady S. and Joseph, l. i e. 

LIGHTS full «p- 

Lady S. (r.). Impossible ! Will not Sir Peter immediately 
be reconciled to Charles, and of consequence no longer oppose 
his union with Maria ? The thought is distraction to me. 

Joseph (l.). Can passion furnish a remedy? 

Lady S. No, nor cunning either. Oh, I was a fool, an 
idiot, to league with such a blunderer ! 

READY knock. 

Joseph. Sure, Lady Sneerwell, I am the greatest sufferer ; 
yet you see I bear the accident with calmness. Well, I admit 
I have been to blame. I confess I deviated from the direct 
road to wrong, but I don't think we're so totally defeated, 
neither. 

Lady S. No ! 

Joseph. You tell me you have made a trial of Snake since 
we met, and that you still believe him faithful to us ? 

Lady S. I do believe so. 

Joseph. And that he has undertaken, should it be neces- 
sary, to swear and prove that Charles is at this time contracted 
by vows of honor to your ladyship, which some of his former 
letters to you will serve to support. 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 8/ 

Lady S. This, indeed, might have assisted. 

Joseph. Come, come j it is not too late yet. (Knocking at 

KNOCX off L* 

the door^ l.) But hark ! this is probably my uncle. Sir 
Oliver : retire to that room ; we'll consult further when he is 
gone. 

Lady S. Well, but if he should find you out, too ? 

Joseph. Oh, I have no fear of that. Sir Peter will hold his 
tongue for his own credit's sake — and you may depend on it I 
shall soon discover Sir Oliver's weak side I 

Lady S. I have no diffidence of your abilities 1 Only be 
constant to one roguery at a time. 

Exit, R. I E. 

Joseph. I will, I will. So ! 'tis confounded hard, after 
such bad fortune, to be baited by one's confederates in evil. 
(Crosses to R.) Well, at all events, my character is so much 

better than Charles's that 1 certainly Hey ! — what ! — this 

is not Sir Oliver, but old Stanley again. Plague on't ! that he 
should return to teaze me just now. I shall have Sir Oliver 

come and find him here — and (Enter Sir O., l. i e.) 

Gad's life, Mr. Stanley, v/hy have you come back to plague me 
at this time ? You must not stay now, upon my word. 

Sir O. (l.). Sir, I hear your Uncle Oliver is expected here, 
and though he has been so penurious to you, I'll try what he'll 
do for me. 

Joseph (r.). Sir, 'tis impossible for you to stay now, so I must 

beg Come any other time, and I promise you you shall 

be assisted. 

Sir O. No : Sir Oliver and I must be acquainted. 

Joseph. Zounds, sir ! then I insist on your quitting the 
room directly. 

Sir O. Nay, sir 

Joseph. Sir, I insist on't ; here {calling off l.), William, 
show this gentleman out. Since you compel me, sir, — not one 
moment — this is such insolence ! ( Goes to push him out at l.) 

Enter Charles, l. i e. 

Charles. Hey day ! what's the matter now ! What the 
devil, have you got hold of my little broker here ? (Joseph 
crosses to r.) Zounds, brother ! don't hurt little Premium. 
(Crosses c.) What's the matter, my little fellow ? 



88 th:b: school for scandal 

Joseph (r.). So ! he has been with you too, has he? 

Charles (c). To be sure he has. Why, he's as honest a 

little But sure, Joseph, you have not been borrowing 

money too, have you ? 

Joseph. Borrowing 1 No ! But, brother, you know we ex- 
pect Sir Oliver here every 

Charles. Oh, Gad, that's true ! Noll mustn't find the 
little broker here, to be sure ! 

Joseph. Yet Mr. Stanley insists 

Charles. Stanley ! why, his name's Premium. 

Joseph. No, sir, Stanley. 

Charles. No, no ; Premium. 

Joseph. Well, no matter which — but 

Charles. Ay, ay, Stanley or Premium, 'tis the same thing, 
as you say ; for I suppose he goes by half a hundred names, 
besides A. B, at the coffee-house. 

Joseph. 'Sdeath I here's Sir Oliver at the door. Now I 
beg, Mr. Stanley 

Charles. Ay, ay, and I beg, Mr. Premium 

Sir O. Gentlemen 

Joseph. Sir, by heaven you shall go ! 

Charles. Ay, ay, out with him, certainly ! 

Sir O. This violence 

Joseph. Sir, 'tis your own fault. 

Charles. Out with him, to be sure. 

{Both force Sir O. outy r.) 

Enter, l. i e.. Sir P. with Lady T. on his right arm andyixvax 
on his left. Row. follows, Charles and Joseph cross to 
R. and R. c. Sir O. to c.) 

Sir p. My old friend Sir Oliver — hey ! What in the name 
of wonder — here are dutiful nephews — assault their uncle at a 
first visit ! 

Lady T. Indeed, Sir Oliver, 'twas well we came in to 
rescue you. 

Row. Truly, it was ; for I perceive. Sir Oliver, the char- 
acter of old Stanley was no protection to you. 

Sir O. Nor Premium either ; the necessities of the former 
could not extort a shilling from that benevolent gentleman ; 
and with the other I stood a chance of faring worse than my 
ancestors, and being knocked down without being bid for. 

(Charles and Joseph lean against each other confused.) 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 89 

Joseph (r. c). Charles I 

Charles (r.). Joseph I 

Joseph. 'Tis now complete ! 

Charles. Very ! 

Sir O. (c). Sir Peter, my friend, and Rowley, too — look 
on that elder nephew of mine. You know what he has already 
received from my bounty ; and you also know how gladly I 
would have regarded half of my fortune as held in trust for 
him : judge then of my disappointment in discovering him to be 
destitute of truth, charity, and gratitude. 

Sir p. Sir Oliver, I should be more surprised at this dec- 
laration if I had not myself found him to be selfish, treacher- 
ous and hypocritical. 

Lady T. And if the gentleman pleads not guilty to these, 
pray let him call me to testify to his character. 

Sir p. Then, I believe, we need add no more : if he knows 
himself he will consider it as the most perfect punishment that 
he is known to the world. 

Charles (aside). If they talk this way to honesty, what 
will they say to me, by-and-by ? 

(Sir p.. Lady T. andM.h.^iK retire up l. and converse.) 

Sir O. As for that prodigal, his brother, there 



Charles (aside). Ay, now comes my turn : the damned 
family pictures will ruin me. 

Joseph (recovering himself). Sir Oliver — uncle, will you 
honor me with a hearing ? 

Charles (aside). Now, if Joseph would make one of his 
long speeches, I might recollect myself a little. 

Sir O. (to Joseph). I suppose you would undertake to 
justify yourself? 

Joseph. I trust 1 could. 

Sir O. Nay, if you desert your roguery in its distress, and 
try to be justified, you have even less principle than I thought 
you had. (Joseph goes up r.. Sir O. crosses to Charles at 
R. c. , with a smile. To Charles.) Well, sir ! you could justify 
yourself, too, I suppose ? 

Charles. Not that I know of. Sir Oliver. 

Sir O. What! Little Premium has been let too much into 
the secret, I suppose ? 

Charles. True, sir ; but they were family secrets, and 
should not be mentioned again, you know. 



90 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

Row. (l.). Come, Sir Oliver, I know you cannot speak of 
Charles's follies with anger. 

Sir O. (c). Odd's heart, no more I can ; nor with gravity 
either. Sir Peter, do you know the rogue bargained with me 
for all his ancestors — sold me judges and generals by the foot, 
and maiden aunts as cheap as broken china ? 

Charles. To be sure. Sir Oliver, I did make a little free 
with the family canvas, that's the truth on't. My ancestors 
may certainly rise up in judgment against me, there's no deny- 
ing it ; but believe me sincere when I tell you that if I do not 
appear mortified at the exposure of my follies, it is because I 
feel at this moment the warmest satisfaction in seeing you, my 
liberal benefactor. 

Sir O. Charles, I believe you; give me your hand again; 
the ill-looking little fellow over the settee has made your peace. 

Charles. Then, sir, my gratitude to the original is still 
increased. 

(Sir O. and Charles go up hand in hand.') 

Lady T. {advancing^ c, Maria on her left). Yet, I be- 
lieve, Sir Oliver, here is one whom Charles is still more anx- 
ious to be reconciled to. 

Sir O. (Sir O. and Charles come down together y reversing 
their positions ; Sir O. at r., Charles, r. c). Oh! I have 
heard of his attachment there; and, with the young lady's 
pardon, if I construe right, that blush 

Sir p. {coming down l. c). Well, child, speak your senti- 
ments. Oh, curse that word ! 

Maria. Sir, I have little to say but that I shall rejoice to 
hear that he is happy ; for me, whatever claim I had to his 
attention I willingly resign to one who has a better title. 

Charles. How, Maria ! 

Sir p. Hey day ! what's the mystery now ? While he 
appeared an incorrigible rake, you would give your hand to no 
one else; and now that he is likely to reform, I'll warrant you 
won't have him. 

Maria. His own heart and Lady Sneerwell know the cause. 

{Goes up stage.) 

Charles. Lady Sneerwell ! 

Joseph {coming down extreme r.). Brother, it is with great 
concern I am obliged to speak on this point, but my regard tp 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 9I 

justice compels me, and Lady SneerwelFs injuries can no longer 
be concealed. (^Opens the door r.) 

Lady T. 
Charles. Maria. 

Sir O. Sir P. 

Joseph. Row. 

R. L. 

{All look R.) 

Enter Lady S., r. i e. 

Sir p. So ! another French milliner ! Egad, he has one 
in every room in the house, I suppose. 

( Goes up stage followed by Lady T. and Maria. ) 

Lady S. (coming forward between Joseph and Sir O.). 
Ungrateful Charles ! Well may you be surprised, and feel for 
the indelicate situation your perfidy has forced me into. 

Charles. Pray, uncle, is this another plot of yours ? For, 
as I have life, I don't understand it. 

Joseph. I believe, sir, there is but the evidence of one per- 
son more necessary to make it extremely clear. 

Sir p. {coming down c. with Lady T. on his l. and Maria 
on his R.). And that person, I imagine, is Mr. Snake. Row- 
ley, you were perfectly right to bring him with us, and pray let 
him appear. 

Row. {opening door at L.). Crawl in, Mr. Snake. (Enter 
Snake, l. i e., a7td co?nes down l.) I thought his testimony 
might be wanted ; however, it happens, unluckily, that he 
comes to confront Lady Sneerwell, not to support her. 

Lady S. (r.). A villain ! Treacherous to me at last ! 
Speak, fellow ; have you, too, conspired against me ? 

Snake (l.). I beg your ladyship ten thousand pardons; 
you paid me extremely liberally for the lie in question, but I, 
unfortunately, have been offered double to speak the truth. 

Sir p. Plot and counter-plot ! I wish your ladyship joy of 
your negotiation. 

(Sir p. and Lady T. retire a little up c. Charles and 
Maria go up r. together.) 

Lady S. {crossing l.). The torments of shame and disap- 
pointment on you all ! 
Lady T. Hold, Lady Sneerwell \ before you go, let me 



92 THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 

thank you for the trouble you and that gentleman have taken 
m writing letters from me to Charles, and answering them 
yourself; and let me also request you to make my respects to 
the scandalous college of which you are president, and inform 
them that Lady Teazle, licentiate, begs leave to return the 
diploma they granted her, as she leaves off practice, and kills 
characters no longer. 

Lady S. You, too, madam ! — provoking — insolent ! May 
your husband live these fifty years ! 

Exit, L. I E. 

Sir p. Oons ! what a fury I 

Lady T. A malicious creature, indeed ! 

Sir p. {on Lady T.'s r.). . What ! Not for her last wish? 

Lady T. Oh, no ! 

Sir O. Well, sir, and what have you to say now ? 

Joseph. Sir, I am so confounded to find that Lady Sneer- 
well could be guilty of suborning Mr. Snake in this manner, to 
impose on us all, that I know not what to say : however, lest 
her revengeful spirit should prompt her to injure my brother, I 
had certainly better follow her directly. For the man who 
attempts to {Crosses and Gxit, L. i E.) 

Sir p. Moral to the last ! 

Sir O. {calling after Joseph). Ay, and marry her, Joseph, 
if you can. Oil and vinegar ! Egad ! you'll do very well 
together. 

Row. I believe we have no more occasion for Mr. Snake, 
at present. 

Snake (l.). Before I go, I beg pardon once for all for 
whatever uneasiness I have been the humble instrument of 
causing to the parties present. 

Sir p. Well, well, you have made atonement by a good 
deed at last. 

Snake. But I must request of the company that it shall 
never be known. 

Sir p. Hey — ^what the plague ! Are you ashamed of hav- 
ing done a right thing once in your life ? 

Snake. Ah, sir, consider, — I live by the badness of my 
character; and if it were once known that I had been be- 
trayed into an honest action, I should lose every friend I have 
in the world. 

Sir O. Well, well ; we'll not traduce you by saying any- 
thing in your praise, never fear, 



\ 



THE SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL 93 

Snake. Thank you, sir. 

Exit, L. I E. 

Lady T. See, Sir Oliver, there needs no persuasion now to 
reconcile your nephew and Maria. 

Sir O. Ay, ay, that's as it should be ; and, egad, we'll 
have the wedding to-morrow morning. 

Charles. Thank you, dear uncle ! 

Sir p. What, you rogue ! Don't you ask the girl's consent 
first? 

Charles. Oh, I have done that a long time — a minute ago 
— and she has looked yes. 

WARN curtain. 

Maria. For shame, Charles ! — I protest. Sir Peter, there 
has not been a word. 

Sir O. Well, then, the fewer the better ; may your love for 
each other never know abatement ! 

Sir p. And may you live as happy together as Lady Teazle 
and I intend to do ! 

Charles. Rowley, my old friend, I am sure you congratu- 
late me; and I suspect that I owe you much. 

Sir p. Ay, honest Rowley always said you would reform. 

Charles. Why, as to reforming, Sir Peter, I'll make no 
promises, and that I take to be a proof that I intend to set 
about it; but here shall be my monitor — my gentle guide — 
ah 1 can I leave the virtuous path those eyes illumine ! 

Though thou, dear maid, should' st waive thy beauty's sway, 

Thou still must rule, because I will obey ; 

An humble fugitive from Folly's view. 

No sanctuary near but love and you : \To the audience. 

You can, indeed, each anxious fear remove, 

For even Scandal dies, if you approve. 

RING slow curtain* 

DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE FALL 
OF THE CURTAIN 

Sir O. Charles. Maria. Sir P. Lady T. Row. 

R. L. 



I 



<a, W, lineto's Pars 



THE MAGISTRATE ^^^°® "^ Three Acts. Twelve males, four 
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Eight males, five females . 
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^ males, five females. Cos- 

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A WIFE WITHODT A SMILE ''ZZ<^,^:^,^ZZ:i 

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